Royal Gladiator
by Magus Argentum
Summary: Fighting for glory in honorable battles. This is the path of gladiators. Though the truth is, they are forced to struggle in the arena for the entertainment of others, even until death. Yet Ganondorf, one of them, never loses his hope of earning his freedom to become a warrior. But his future is overshadowed by his forgotten past that waits for the day to reveal his true destiny.
1. The Great War & The Game of Death

******Acknowledgement:** Many thanks go to my beta reader Debochira, who is a great help in improving this story to make it more enjoyable to read. :)

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**Prologue - ****The Great War**

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Hyrule, a magical country united as a kingdom under the banner of the royal family. They hold the might to reinforce justice and keep the balance between all the tribes. Peace reigned over their fatherland. Century after century, era after era.

But even though most tribes aided their neighbors or even traveled the world together, clans existed whose laws differed. The most notorious amongst them consisted of strong warriors who were branded as a tribe of outlaws, being infamous for disrespecting and crossing the borders of others, again and again.

As it continuously happened within history, it was inevitable that the day would arise on which the conflicts grew apart to a point where words lost their purpose. In the following night, the royals made the fateful decision. They placed the death sentence upon the peace. However, no one could have foreseen the fierce consequences of the declaration of war that would follow the days, the months, even the years after it.

The green landscapes of Hyrule had turned into a battlefield, buried under the remains of the fallen. The peace had long since vanished for fear and misery that claimed the hearts of the inhabitants, when the warrior clan clashed into the royal army.  
Amidst the madness, thousands have lost their lives but even more would still join them in death until the day where only one nation would triumph in victory over the enemy's extinction.

But despite all the cruelty that humanity had to offer in the Great War of Hyrule, there was a miracle. In the heat of the battle, almost at the same time, both leading nations had given birth to their successor. A prince and a princess.

Even though their early life was shaped with painful losses, the war came to an end when they both were still children. But it had claimed its victims as only one nation survived. The knights of the royal army remorselessly hunted down the remaining people of the defeated tribe and only a few of them could escape their deadly fate. Now spread all over the kingdom, they were, together with their culture, forgotten by most.

As for both successors of their respective nation, they survived, though only one was allowed to become royalty and lead her people to prosperity.  
The other one was condemned to a life of repression without knowledge about his own folk.

However, it was written within their destiny that one day their paths would cross each other's, maybe even closer and deeper that anybody deemed possible. But their future was unknown and might even lead history on a darker path than the Great War itself.

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**Act I - The Life of a Gladiator**

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**Chapter I - The Game of Death**

The rusty sand crawled into his mouth when he breathed heavily, suffering from the wounds that were inflected to him in the raging fight. As a result, great parts of his dark skin took on the same color as his hair. Red.

But he soon spit out the dust again. It tasted disgusting because it was mixed with the blood of the ones who had fought on these grounds before, fought for their lives and even though some of them were successful in protecting it, many have found their eternal rest here on this battlefield.

Yet, he was not alone. In fact, he never was. A crowd of people surrounding him screamed and cheered helter-skelter. Though he never understood their words, it was obvious that they wanted, that they even demanded he continued the fight. Something that made him sick, over and over again, because they just sat there on their tribune and watched, far outside of the range of any danger. The only thing they feared were battles that ended too soon or even worse, got stale and therefore boring for them.

It was clear that he never fought to protect anybody or to gain anything out of it. The only reason he fought for was to entertain them in a game of death. Always knowing that the fight could be his last one and take the capital punishment without objections if he did not performed well enough.  
In the end, this was what was expected without any exceptions from any gladiator. From him.

He panted angrily when he braced himself on the elbows. Though he still, after all the years, loathed the fact the he followed the bidding of them to fight on, it was his willpower to survive that pushed him forward. Again and again. Year after year. However, to achieve living another day, he needed his weapon back. But even though his sword lay in eye-sight, it was still out of reach.

In the distance, the boar-minotaur-beast roared fiercely when it bashed against the barrier that divided it from the audience. Normally it was supposed to fight him but after it had sent him on a flight, it seemed to have gotten a deeper interest on the people outside. Probably he was not enough to satisfy its hunger. But since the barrier was powerful, even reinforced with magic, no one, neither human nor beast, could ever break it. At least not with mortal powers, that is.

But he knew, once the monster would find out that the only living flesh in its reach would be him, it would not hesitate to drill its claws into his body and tear him apart.

He had to grit his teeth because there was no other way but to crouch towards his sword. But once he reached his right arm out to get his hand on the blood-covered riff, an intense pain ran through it and he reflexively let go of the weapon with a quiet anguished cry. His view wandered upon the arm which had intercepted a lot of the impact of his fall before. Frustrated he witnessed that it had become useless as the damage was too severe. He had to fight with the other one. He could only hope that the adrenalin flooding in his veins could compensate this, indeed great, disadvantage.

The audience screamed louder in pleasure when he finally got up on his feet again. It was annoying but not a secret that they loved it, this drama, and this willpower of a warrior to keep on fighting, regardless of his injuries. They never spent a single second thinking about how someone in this arena felt when death was calling from beyond.

In the end, it interested no one that they, the gladiators, never had chosen this life voluntary. Though their circumstances that lead to it were all different, from penalized bandits and murderers to orphans and outcasts, they had one thing in common. They were slaves, even tools of their master and bound to his will and mercy at any given decision and time. The only other possibility they could choose was death. It was frustrating to think about the choices that were offered to him since more than thirteen years. But he would not give up. Never, he swore to himself. One day, it should end. It must. And the end did not mean his death.

In the meantime, the monster had stopped attacking the barrier and realized that its supposed enemy had recovered. The red glowing eyes gazed deadly at him and the teeth protruded out of its jaw when it released a scarring howl.

The ground trembled when the two hoofed feet crashed on the floor. He felt the impact very well on his whole body. This thing was without a doubt gigantic, more than double in size compared to himself, even though he towered as well above most other human beings with ease.

When it came near to him, the claws dangerously stretched, he knew it would be their last clash. The time had come when a winner would be declared between the both of them. Though he might be stretching on his physical limits, the creature had forfeited a lot of its stamina in the long ranging fight as well. And no matter how formidable his enemy might be, if this one wanted a piece of him, much effort had to be taken for it.

The beast charged at him and with its full weight behind it, it tried to slice its claws through his stomach. Even though he was able to avoid the biggest impact of the attack, he injured himself on his shoulder when he crashed to the ground. Unfortunate, his armor had fallen apart due to the reckless attacks and by now left his arms and a great part of his upper body unprotected.

The audience screamed in "oohs" and "ahhs" when they marveled at his struggle. But because of the missed attack, the beast stumbled. He used the chance to crawl between its legs to reach the backside though he had to watch out to not get trampled down or get smashed with its tail.

Still confused, the monster tried to locate its enemy, but he already had grabbed the tail with his remaining arm, the sword now fixed onto his armor. He lifted himself onto the beast's back as the only chance he had to end the fight in his favor was to hit it directly on the head. All the other parts of its body were covered with a hard skin beneath its fur which was far too difficult to cut through in regard to his weakened condition.

But the task of climbing up proved to be tough as the beast constantly tried to shake him off. One time he barely avoided a hit from the tail. However, it still resulted in losing his balance though he was able to grab one arm of the monster to prevent the fall, but it tried immediately to slice through him with its other claw.

A painful roar echoed through the arena. The beast had drilled its own claws into its body because he was able to avoid the attack with a well-timed maneuver. Albeit very close as he had felt the blast of air blowing over his skin when the claws neared.

But now that the monster was distracted by its own pain and stumbled without orientation through the arena, he finally had the chance to climb up to its head. Upon it, he saw the thin layer of skin, the weak spot. Heavily breathing, he grinned. The end had come.

He twisted his legs around the horns of the beast since he needed his arm free to draw the sword again to execute the mortal blow. But then, no mercy was left for the beast. Remorselessly he hammered the sword multiple times into its skull. Again and again, spilling its blood even on his own body until its death scream echoed all over the battlefield and the light in its eyes extinguished.

Under the sheer jubilation of the audience, the beast fell down together with him. But from one moment to another, silence dominated the arena because both lay motionless in the dust.

There was no denying, he was exhausted. His body had reached its limits as well. But when his view wandered onto the beast, resting besides him with the sword sticking in its head, he realized… It was finished off and the fight… the win belonged to him after all. A feeling of pure exhilaration filled him from the inside, followed by a deep and satisfying smile ranging all over his face.

The emotion was even strong enough that it blinded out all of his pain and exhaustion when he slowly stood up. It was not easy to stay on his feet but he raised his left arm to indicate that victory was his. And only his.

The cheering was immense when he stumbled along on his way to the outside with his last strength. It was one of those rare moments he really enjoyed from the bottom of his heart and he would not allow himself to miss it because of his physical condition. Because the triumph combined with the feeling of acknowledgment of his skills from all the people made him feel to be a little worthwhile at least.

But he knew once he would be out of their sight they would soon forget him and only remember the fight between a man and a beast that tore each other apart until death caught one of them. As for him, everything would repeat again one day without knowing if he would witness this moment ever again or if he would be the one that found his eternal rest on this battlefield. Because the games of death knew no end as long as people loved to watch them. And they have for eons.

However, under all the cheers and jeers, he could hear it. It was neither clear nor loud but a few screamed it nonetheless. His name. It created a warm feeling inside him. Maybe this was even worth more than all the jubilation combined together as it indicated he was more than a mere tool and would not be forgotten by all.

Furthermore, he held this one very dear as it was the only thing that he could remember before his life as a gladiator. The name Ganondorf.


	2. Scars of the Battle

**Chapter II – Scars of the Battle**

No matter how much strength Ganondorf had gained from the exhilaration, it only overshadowed his exhaustion and pain. He felt it in every step he took but showing his weakness towards the audience was against his nature. As long as he was in that arena, he would stand upright.

Ganondorf reached the preparation room where gladiators went to before and after their fights, for they were not allowed to take any weapons or armor into the inside areas. These ones were secured with an additional iron railing and the guards only opened it when the fighter had put everything back on the designated racks, far out of their reach to suddenly grab them again.

In the end, even though the fighters were branded as property of the arena, it did not change the fact that they were skilled and had nothing to lose anymore besides their enslaved life. Rebellion happened one day or another out of the desperation, but the master had drastic measurements for such a behavior, including the death sentence. Yet it was in their own interest to keep the chances of uprisings at a minimum right from the start.

Once the arena gate closed behind Ganondorf, his body exacted its toll. There was nothing he could do when his knees became weak and he fell over. He had not even the strength to lessen the impact. But he hated the fact that he laid in the dust again even though the fight was over. Knowing that in the recent years he never was that exhausted and injured after a fight scratched his pride even further. Maybe this was even more painful than the wounds itself. No, most likely it was.

He heard how one of the guards, known as Mikrul, demanded him to stand up again and finally get out of his armor. If Ganondorf was honest, this time he would have loved to follow his orders to spare himself this pathetic view despite the aversion he had towards this man. But since his body denied him to a point where even breathing and keeping his eyes open became strenuous, there was not even the possibility to act willingly disobedient. He had not only reached his limits with this beast, he had overstepped it. By far.

Mikrul's annoyance was audible when he shouted towards some other guards after Ganondorf did not show even the slightest inclination to do anything. Shortly afterwards, the door opened and burst against the bars.

"Do you intend to lay there for all eternity?" moaned Mikrul angrily when he was near Ganondorf. "If you would've fought properly and not like an absolute beginner, you wouldn't look like a slaughtered pig now."

The arrogance of this man always enraged Ganondorf, who would have loved to take the man's head and crush it into pieces on the next wall. He was certain that Mikrul was one of those people who enjoyed to show and exercise power over others, but who could never stand up to a fight himself in the arena. His relatively small stature and hollow cheeks were good indications for this. It fed his own aggression towards this man even more to know he was in the inferior position and unable to do anything effectively against him.

However, before Ganondorf could even think about a response that he probably could not have spoken out due to his condition, Mikrul had already grabbed his right arm and tried to tear him up with it. "Couldn't you have taken better care of yourself? How do you think to compete in the next fight?"

But his only achievement was that Ganondorf moaned when the pain spread instantly through his whole body, accompanied by a prickling feeling. Out of all parts of his body, Mikrul had to strain the one that had taken the most damage. His field of vision blurred, like his sense of hearing. It became too much, far too much to handle physically.

He was on the edge of losing his consciousness, when Mikrul abruptly let go of him. Only a second later he realized why when he heard another man with a sharp voice complaining, "What are you doing? Are you blind? Can't you see he won't move a muscle anymore by now?"

It was Raul, a man that already grew grey hair but who had a terrifying presence with his sinister expressions and big build. But even though he had strict rules and was not one to mock around, he was someone who knew when he had to abandon them and take other priorities. This made him one of the more sympathetic guards after all.

"He shouldn't make such a fuss out of it. I thought if he was an ever so strong warrior, then he should act like one and not like a pussy," responded Mikrul in a spiteful manner.

Raul already knelt besides Ganondorf and loosened the leather strap of his armor when he sighed annoyed. "You should know when to keep your trap shut. If we would all act like you, we would soon have not a single gladiator left. If you want them to function and keep on, you have to care at least a little for them. Even more when you want them to compete in the more challenging and dangerous battles." He stopped in his movement and Ganondorf assumed he looked up to Mikrul before he added, "I would wish you much fun to tell our chief that one of his better fighters died not in the arena but because of your carelessness. Maybe he'll send you as a replacement for him so that you learn a thing or two, assuming you survive out there." He continued in getting Ganondorf out of the armor. "And now stop staring into the space and help me. This is true for you two, too. We must get him to the infirmary."

Mikrul remained quiet and followed Raul's instructions while Ganondorf tried to not grin since even this was painful. But he always liked it if someone shut Mikrul up. Luckily, Raul was a great example for it and since he was higher ranked and more experienced, Mikrul had no chances to counter.

After Ganondorf was only left with a breechcloth, Raul and another guard each laid one arm of him over their shoulder to carry him. They were indeed much more careful in not worsening his injuries, as opposed to Mikrul.

* * *

The infirmary was nearby and belonged to the best furnished stations the whole facility had to offer. Though the walls were still made of cold stone with windows that were reinforced with bars, the room he was brought to consisted of six beds, three arranged parallel on each wall, and was surprisingly well lighted. Even the condition of the beds and the tissues on them was good, especially in contrast to the old and worn out ones they had back in their cells.

It was a luxury but it was not meant as a compensation for the hard fights but because of another economic reason. Since they put a lot of rupees in getting a slave in the first place, they also had to put money as well as effort and time into their training before they could even be sent into the arena to show a proper fight. Otherwise, the audience would be unhappy, resulting in demanding their money back. And even worse, they would not come again.

Therefore they tried to keep the losses of their capital as low as it was possible which also meant to get the gladiators up again once they were wounded from the fights. Additionally, the ones who were bound to the arena for a longer time went under a lot of training and therefore were able to compete in more spectacular fights against dangerous as well as skilled beasts and foes, thus making those fighters even more valuable. They were willing to put more effort and rupees into their recovery than they would be willing for a newcomer.

Yet despite the good condition of the room, the smell of blood and death always polluted the air. Normally Ganondorf was used to it, but this day he got a twisted feeling in his stomach and felt sick once the two guards had dragged him into the hospital ward.

He heard footsteps from the other side of the station and shortly after the voice of Dina, "I guess the fight is over. Did he manage to get through it?"  
She was the head of the infirmary and a skilled user of the healing arts. She took her work very responsibly, but even though she was successful, she was not sensitive when it came down to treating injuries or illnesses to the chagrin of the wounded.

"He breathes," answered Raul seriously before he added with an amused undertone, "and he can moan. Guess that means he's still alive,"

"What a sharp conclusion," answered Dina coldly. "Now get him on the bed, who knows how long he'll stay this way if you let him hang around like this."

The third guard grabbed Ganondorf by his feet and the three lifted him up to place him on the nearest bed. The last thing he saw was the angular face of Dina who bent over him. He could barely hear her saying, "Let's see what I can do," before his injuries and the sickening air closed him off from the waking world. But it also meant that he was finally released of the pain as everything around him just turned dark and he would not even have to endure Dina's healing procedure in his full consciousness.

It was the shaking and the resounding itching that brought him back to his senses. Though at first, Ganondorf was disorientated and only slowly did his memory recover the events of the battle and he realized that he stared into the face of Dina.

"Already awake? Took you long enough," she said shortly and without much emotion. "Then you can finally drink this." She put a bottle filled with a red liquid on his chest which he intended to take it with his right arm, but he soon noticed it was an impossible endeavor. When he turned his head, he saw that it was bandaged and stabilized to restrict any movements.

Dina must have noticed his hesitation and suspicious view. "It's for this. The other injuries will still need their time to heal but with this one you've gone overboard. It will take months to heal under normal circumstances, therefore we have to speed up the healing process with the help of medicine." She pushed the bottle more forcefully against his chest when she demanded, "Now drink it. I don't have to explain you that its effect lessens with the more time passing by and you've wasted already enough with your unconsciousness."

However, since Ganondorf's mind cleared up more and more with every second passed by, he acted reluctantly and refused to take bottle. He knew this medicine, and he did not like it. Not at all. It was not because it tasted gruesome and one would spit it out within seconds if one did not expected it, it was the value it held. Though it could not heal injuries or prevent the effect of mortal wounds, it stopped the bleeding and was very useful in regards to the recovery process. But since it was also difficult to store and consisted of rare ingredients it was very expensive.

"I would rather fight with one hand for the next couple of weeks than drink this," stated Ganondorf straight-forwardly. He was absolutely serious with it. Even though it was an acknowledgement they deemed him worthy enough to pay for such a medicine for him, he knew they would never do it without ulterior motives. He had to pay it back, all of it, most likely double or thrice the price. Not in money as he possessed none, but they could let him participate in more fights than usual or assign him with other unpleasant tasks between the breaks of the training schedule. Cleaning the arena, scrubbing floors or peeling potatoes, they had enough of those things. He would rather fight at such a disadvantage than endure this degree of humiliation again.

"It wasn't a suggestion, it was an order," responded Dina but Ganondorf did not change his mind. Her eyes glared dangerously when she continued with a menacing voice, "I do not have to remind you, one of our veteran fighters, about the consequences we have for disobedient behavior, do I? Correct me if I am wrong."

Ganondorf turned his head away to avoid her piercing glare but he was clenching his teeth. Even though he, as long as he could remember, had spent his whole life inside these walls, he still loathed to this day the fact he was under someone else's command and was not allowed to make decisions on his own. But what he hated even more was when those people showed him the power they held over him directly into his face, knowing he could not do a thing against it.

"See. Continue acting like this and I'll call the guards. They'll get the medicine into you, believe me, and later on we will see how pleased you are to spend all your time between training and battles in a small cell in the company of chains." Dina's voice was cold while she tapped her fingers on the bottle. "It's your decision, but make it in the next ten seconds or I do."

The sound from her tapping alone was annoying but her words bugged Ganondorf even more. However, as much as he would have liked to begin a quarrel with the guards, it would harm him by far more than giving in. He whipped out the bottle of her hands and lifted his upper body before he drank it down in one gulp. It tasted horrible and he felt disgusting but the alternative to it was even worse. He certainly did not want to be treated like a newcomer again where he was not allowed to make even one step without being guarded and chained up outside of the training ground. It had taken enough time to reach and to regain this status any other time and he certainly did not want to lose it now.

"Next time you spare me the trouble," demanded Dina in a deadly serious manner when she took the bottle back. Without losing any other words, she left.

Later on, Ganondorf received five days to spend at the hospital ward without any duties except recovering. It was even surprising for him as it was an unusually long time frame and even a privilege to not be forced to do any work. Maybe the battle was something special, at least he could not deny it was his toughest one over the years despite his improved skills.

But even though Ganondorf had nothing to do these particular days, they did not feel boring. The opposite, he enjoyed them because he did not have to train from morning to evening, had not fulfilled any other humiliating task, had a comfortable bed, was not yelled at and especially not ordered around. It felt wonderful. Really wonderful. He wished the time would not end too soon.

In the coming days, he had seen other gladiators coming and going. Most of them had only small injuries, resulting from the training and were soon sent back. However, one that came on the fourth day was seriously wounded. When two guards carried him to one bed, he remorselessly pressed his hands against his chest and moaned in pain. Even after Dina had cared for his wound, he still laid crumbling there, gasping for air and moaning.

Ganondorf guessed that he was a new one that probably had fought in his first serious battle where real weapons were involved and that was meant to test if someone was prepared to enter a true fight in the arena in front of the audience's eyes. In regard to his condition, it would also be his last one. It was unlikely he would survive this night.

But since Ganondorf's interest in other people besides himself was never a great one, he did not ask him for the circumstances. Even if the man was able to answer, he had no desire to involve himself in a conversation with this one. He preferred to keep his distance towards others because in the end one could not know when to be ordered to fight against the ones one grew attached to. Those sentiments could be proven to be dangerous if not deadly. Sentiments he neither needed nor could afford in one of those fights.

With the dawn of the fifth day, Ganondorf's assumption became true when the man's motionless body was carried away. The men who did it showed no pity, they did not even seem bothered. For them it was just another one. Maybe they regretted the loss in money but that was the ultimate feeling. But it was true that he did not feel any different towards it. It could happen to him as well one day and probably no one would care either.

This was just the life of gladiators; the ones who were weak were condemned to die. Only the powerful survived.

The hours passed by before Ganondorf heard trampling from the direction of the staff room and shortly afterwards a familiar voice, "Is the redhead here?"

"I have a name," yelled Ganondorf in the questioner's direction since he could not hide his annoyance. Though it was true that he had never seen anybody else with red hair here, he detested it to be only addressed by this and especially by this man.

Shortly afterwards, he saw Mikrul walking towards him. "Here you are."

"Maybe," responded Ganondorf to the random statement. "Maybe not. Depends on your intentions for coming."

"Very funny." Mikrul crossed his arms over his chest when he said derogatorily, "And just for your information, redhead. If I want to call you redhead, I call you redhead. And if I want to call you trash, I call you trash. Got it?"

"Forget it, garbage," responded Ganondorf since he could not suppress all of his rising rage. Even though he got better control over his short temperament in the years, it was a characteristic that accompanied him since his childhood and that he, despite all the punishment he earned for it, never got rid of entirely.

Mikrul's expression darkened drastically and Ganondorf noticed how his hand slid towards the rift of his sword. However, he restrained himself from drawing it and getting violent though he made no secret out of his displeasure. "You're just on the way to getting better and you're already scratching the boundaries really close, redhead. You should watch your mouth because I've already noticed in the recent time that you're getting a little defiant. I don't like this. Seems like you need some disciplinary measurement in the near future to help you remember your position here, don't you think, redhead?"

Ganondorf remained quiet. Even though it itched strongly in his tongue to give Mikrul another naughty remark, it seemed to be wiser to not provoke him any further. It would harm him more than it would Mikrul because no matter how much he despised him, this one was in the superior position.

Mikrul enjoyed the silence; at least his amused expression indicated it. Therefore, he let a good amount of minutes passing by before asking, "Oh, can I assume you have already remembered?"

Ganondorf clenched his left fist under the duvet in such a strong way that it hurt. He even had to bite on his tongue and remind himself that this disgusting man was just not worth the trouble he had to undergo if he would punch him straight in his ugly face.

Mikrul waited again, obviously enjoying the situation, before he said, "Then take this." He threw a pile of tissues on Ganondorf's legs who eyed them quickly. It was just a pack of rags that they were given as the normal clothes. A roughspun tunic with a trouser, together with a pair of footwraps, all of them colored in olive-green and in a worn-out condition. Probably not even worth one rupee but at least better than only the underwear he wore by now.

"I also have a message for you," continued Mikrul while Ganondorf tried to get into the clothing. Due to his right arm still being immobilized, it proved to be a more difficult task than expected. "Your master wants to speak with you, personally. Now," said Mikrul when he walked towards the door. Before he left, he turned around. "Though I would love to see his reaction on you if you let him wait, you shouldn't do it. He detests it. You don't want his wrath on you. Even you just don't want that, redhead."


	3. The Master

**Chapter III – The Master**

Ganondorf strolled along the corridor, lost in thought while rubbing the bandage. It was unusual that his master intended to speak with him as he normally just passed down his messages to the respective trainers. He could count up on one hand how often he had visited him in his office. Otherwise he had only seen his master when this one decided to watch one of the, as he called it, 'gladiator's games' himself.

The guards on patrol quickly eyed Ganondorf when he passed by, but since he belonged to the veteran fighters, he had earned the privilege to move alone in specific areas without restrictions. But since they wore heavy armor and some of them were even versed in the magic arts of stunning the opponent, there was no meaning in attacking them. Together with their numbers, they would overpower him soon if he tried and the consequences were more than unpleasant if not deadly. He must be in a desperate state if he even began to think about trying.

Two men with their faces hidden under a helmet guarded the oversized door of the master's office, each one holding a halberd crossed before it. Only on the movement of the head, Ganondorf assumed they observed him, before one nodded and the other said to him, "Master Azett is already awaiting you."

Both took their weapons up when they stepped to the side in order to make the way free. Ganondorf pushed the door open and walked into the office without knocking or any other sign for coming in.

Even though the office had not changed much from the last time he saw its interior, it was overwhelming time and time again. The carpet was red, decorated with golden signs and portraits cluttered the wall, showing treasures and other golden glowing riches like the picture with three connected triangles. The furnishings were either covered with a gold laver or even made solely of the pure metal. Even the chandelier and windows were overspread with jewelry.

It was more than obvious that Azett was a rich man who loved prosperity and splendor over anything else. Furthermore, it was common knowledge that widening his riches was the most important if not only interest in his life. How he earned it and how many had to give their lives for it was none of his concerns. This man did not care at all as long as it paid off for him.

At least, Ganondorf assumed Azett was a man or at least a human because he had never seen his face. It was always hidden in the shadows as he engulfed his body in a silky cloak of a dark-violet color, ornamented with golden embroideries. The only parts that he left free were his hands embedded with rings. However, the finger nails connecting on the rough skin were shaped like claws.

Since Ganondorf had entered the room, Azett had not said one word. He sat behind his desk, absorbed in a document before him and even though his head was tended down, Ganondorf could not deny that Azett had an intimidating aura around him. Cold and unpredictable.  
However, it did not prevent him from moving directly towards Azett and sitting down on the chair before his desk.

Slowly Azett put his hands away from the document while he lifted his head and said in a monotonous voice, "You're aware that I haven't given you the permission to take a seat, Garland?"

Ganondorf rose an eyebrow when he only reacted in irritation to the last statement, "It's Ganondorf."

A cold silence filled the room. "Instead of apologizing, you dare to correct me. Very courageous. Or maybe foolish?" Azett opened his hand, stretching his fingers upright. "Despite all those years, the rebel inside you is still strong. It should not be this way."

Ganondorf wondered why he made the finger exercise. It was always impossible to tell what was truly going on in his mind as neither his tone of voice nor his body language gave away any useful indications.

However, he felt a cold air on his neck and shortly afterwards a sharp pain caused by it. Reflexively he grabbed after it, but his only achievement was that his fingers froze to the ice block which had formed itself around his left shoulder. Within seconds, it spread even further and soon covered his mouth and nose. Though he could endure a short time without fresh air, it soon became a very intense struggle.

Only shortly before he thought he would suffocate and had already crumbled on his chair, Azett clenched his hand together and from one moment to another, the ice turned into water again. Ganondorf barely held himself on the chair when he braced his upper body with his left arm on the desk, his whole body trembling.

While he still gasped for air, Azett said in his emotionless voice, "I disapprove of your behavior, but I will let it slip. For now. I assume you have seen the difference between your and my power. I can be certain you have understood that next time you behave inappropriately, the cold equals your eternal grave?"

Ganondorf, still recovering from the shock, only nodded. Azett was one of the few, if not the only one, he truly dreaded. Especially after he had shown him personally why he did not need any guards in his office. He would pay a lot of attention to not upset Azett again as it was obvious he would make his menace a reality with one more wrong statement or action. This man did not make jokes. Never.

"Now that this is clarified, let us come to the reason I ordered you here before you reach the end of my patience and that of your own life," stated Azett in his usual cold manner when he laid his hands over each other. "The battle you've presented us five days ago was, as you might have guessed if your mind is sharp, a special one. With that victory, you've proved to belong to my most powerful tools and that even despite your relatively young age. As you might know as well, the time for the Great Tournament has arrived yet again, but I'm still missing an eighth participant for the flagship of my arena."

Ganondorf was baffled for a moment as he did not believe his own ears at first. The tournament Azett spoke about was well known amongst the gladiators because it was the dream of every last one to attend it one day. However, he could not effort to lose any more time to think about it because he had to answer to not anger Azett. But he lacked the right words.

"To put it in more simple words for even you to understand, I want you to take part in the tournament," said Azett without changing his intonation. "I can assume you will enter without complaints?"

"I… yes," stumbled Ganondorf, still overwhelmed.

"Yes, of course you will." Ganondorf assumed he had seen a smugly smile beyond the shadow of Azett's robe. "It's not that any other answer would have been accepted. Because remember, you are mine and you do whatever I order, whenever I order, even if it includes your own death." Azett waved his hand before he commanded, "Go now. Your trainer already knows the introduction for your next month training schedule. I want you to fight on your highest level with the best skills. And I will not tolerate anything beneath that in the tournament." He balled his hands to fists when he added, "Do not disappoint me."

"I won't", answered Ganondorf quickly. In the end, it was a unique chance and he would do everything possible to use it. This Great Tournament, it could indeed be the change in his life he always dreamed about. The dream of becoming his own and only master.

However, when Ganondorf was outside again, he felt how much tension left his body. Once he reached the end of the corridor, he turned around, watching back at the great door and he realized how much influence Azett's presence alone had on him. Combined with the sorcerer skills he had witnessed on his own body, it made him even more terrifying.

Such a powerful man. Enviable. Just alone the thought alone of gaining strength on the level of this man left a deep impression. A very deep one.

Ganondorf sighed. If he just could possess such powers as well one day, then no one would ever command him again. He would be forever his own and only master.

* * *

Back at the infirmary, Dina removed the bandages of his arm. Only small scratches were visible anymore, mostly a result thanks to the red potion. To his pleasure, the arm did not even hurt anymore. The moving itself was still uncoordinated and the fingers felt a little numb when he tried to fold them but he was confident he could soon use them to their full potential again.

Dina left him because she was ordered to heal up another gladiator, but she told him to stay since his trainer intended to come here later on. Ganondorf remained on the seat where he recovered the feeling for his arm, when he was addressed from behind in a defiant way, "Well, well. Who would've guessed you're still with us. I thought the beast would have gotten rid of you. Seems like it was a weak one and I unfortunately have to endure your presence for longer."

Ganondorf did not need to turn around in order to get to know who was speaking to him, though he was surprised he had not noticed him once he entered the hospital ward. It was another fighter named Risaad who had a surprisingly small build for being a gladiator and who always wore his brown hair long. He knew that one since his childhood as the man was sent to the arena only two or three years after him.

However, the difference was that Risaad was already a grown-up at this point but right from the start, the man held an aversion against him. He never knew why. But it soon became mutual and though they both desired to finally get assigned to fight and smash each other's skull in the arena, it never happened.

"And I thought it was already clarified that one day I will personally feed your pathetic remains to the beasts to make them hungry for human flesh," answered Ganondorf, undeterred, and only afterwards turned around. He saw Risaad laying on one of the beds. "I'm even willing to take my free time to sign up for this task. You should feel honored I'm wasting my precious time on a lowlife like you, even after your rightful death."

"I'll engrave those words on your tombstone so that everybody remembers your pathetic arrogance," responded Risaad spitefully. "Though I'm afraid they're not giving those to such insignificant scum like you."

Ganondorf only grinned dully towards the last statement but he could see that it bugged Risaad. It was a pleasure. "Insignificant, you say?" His grin got even more disdainful. "Well, as opposed to you, I am part of the next month's Great Tournament."

The disbelief was visible in all over Risaad's face when he lifted his upper body and eyed Ganondorf suspiciously. "That was a good joke. You should apply yourself as a court jester. This fits you very well."

"No problem. After I've won, I'll come back whenever you're fighting and pray that your opponent slices through your stomach," responded Ganondorf while he ignored Risaad's false proposal. But he could not hide his satisfying smile.

"You're serious?" yelled Risaad in surprise and horror alike. "By the Goddesses, they must have really run out of good gladiators if they've assigned someone like you." Forlorn he stroked over his forehead before he said after a while, "The secret to how you persuaded them lies in your nose, doesn't it? This beak was always suspicious to me, it's not said for nothing that liars grow a long one. Say, how can you actually hold the balance with such a thing in your visage?"

"Are you searching for trouble?" grumbled Ganondorf aggressively. The teasing between them was one thing but it was a red tag for him once his name was blemished or his outer appearance.

"No," answered Risaad, unimpressed by the menace and added sardonically, "But I can imagine you can use it as a wonderful weapon to hack your enemies to death. Which makes me wonder… Why do you still carry a sword if you have such a weapon on your body all along?"

"Just keep your trap shut up!" grunted Ganondorf menacingly and drilled his hands into the chair to keep himself under control. Though he felt he was on the edge of losing it.

But Risaad did not give in at that point when he asked in a false-pitying manner, "Oh, are we having problems with our temper again, Ganondork?"

Ganondorf could not hold it anymore when he jumped so energetically from his chair that it crashed on the floor while he burst out, "You will regret it, you bastard!"

He rushed towards Risaad, intending to struggle him to death. Though his foe prepared himself for the attack, Ganondorf was unable to even reach him. He was held back. Before he could react, one of his feet was already swept away and he landed on Risaad's bed. Although he tried to get free again, the intruder had pressed his knees on Ganondorf's back and twisted his arm in a way that increased the pain with every struggle he made. There was no chance of getting free.

It was for certain that this one knew how to handle him despite his high build and strength without the use of any weapons or spells. And he could only think of one person that was able to do so. That one was Karlos, the one who trained him since he was a child and knew all his weaknesses by heart.

After the first shock had vanished from Risaad, he began to laugh in mischievousness. In the meanwhile, other guards had gotten alarmed and entered the room.

"What's the noise about?" asked one of them harshly.

"Everything is alright," responded Karlos in a neutral way. "You can leave."

The guards looked confused at Karlos and afterwards at Ganondorf who was still under the control of him. "You're certain that everything is alright? Is he making problems?"

"Like I said before, everything is alright. You can leave!" This time, Karlos voice had a more demanding sound in it. The guards shortly looked at each other but left without saying another word. "And you stop laughing, it's annoying," commanded Karlos sharply to Risaad. "And you calm down again. I can't believe that you're still this quick-tempered. Have you even spent one second on the consequences, you fool?"'

Ganondorf grumbled but did not say anything. "I take it as a 'no' then," said Karlos annoyed while he still restricted Ganondorf from any movements. He took some time to think before he added in a serious manner, "One thing, Ganon. Normally I should punish you for this behavior. It's nothing I tolerate at all. But only because you have such an important tournament in only a month and we have to keep up with the five days we've lost, I won't. But write this behind your ears. It's the one and only exception. Do it again and you get the sentence for this here as a bonus on top of the next one. Got it?"

Ganondorf did not give him an answer and only grumbled while he tried to get into a more relaxing position. However, Karlos twisted his arm further when he said harshly, "I've asked you if you've gotten it, Ganondorf!"

"Yes!" he groaned in a mixture of annoyance and pain.

"Good," responded Karlos and knocked on his head. "But next time, you answer in a different manner. Now come on, we've things to do." He released his grasp and gave him a sign to follow him. Ganondorf did, without paying more attention to Risaad because he felt how his pleasant smile would make him lose his control once again and get himself into even more trouble.


	4. Silence before the Storm

**Chapter IV – Calm before the Storm**

"That's enough for today. You only get more injuries if we continue." Karlos pointed his wooden sword directly under Ganondorf's chin, who lay on the ground as a result from the fight before, his own weapon out of reach. Even though he was used to train for the whole day, the exercises had gotten intense once it was announced he would participate in the tournament. From conditional training to the different arts of combat, Karlos did not give him a lot of breaks and more than once he was bathed in sweat, heavily breathing while he was pushed to his physical limits.

"But at least we've caught up with your five-days-break. And your arm is almost entirely recovered. I think the next two days will do the rest," said Karlos but he sounded thoughtfully, even worried. "At least a partial achievement."

"Is there something wrong?" Ganondorf did not like it when Karlos spoke in that fashion. "You're sounding like someone has beaten you up." Though he could not hide his grin when he stood in front of him again. "And for once I wasn't the one responsible."

Karlos did not answer immediately and instead looked around the training ground. However, it never offered much of a view since it was surrounded by high walls and the ground only covered with rusty sand, yet it was at least under the open sky. The clashing noise of wooden weapons from other fighters filled the air while Ganondorf pulled of the weights on his arms and legs that should imitate the weight of armor. Most of the time, he or any other arena fighter was not allowed to wear one for training, in opposite to the trainers in order to prevent serious injuries from their gladiators in sparring fights.

Karlos turned his head to Ganondorf again with an unpleased expression. "We have less than three weeks left only thanks to the beast. And before you ask, no that's not much in regard to where you shall participate. The others know it since two to three months and concentrate solely on the training without being sent to other fights or tasks. That's a disadvantage. And to be sincere, not a small one." His view wandered upon the other gladiators again. "Especially since you were one of the first that came to mind, yet you're the last who was chosen. I still don't get why your master delayed his decision for such a long time. But probably I never will."

Ganondorf just grinned confidently. "He was afraid that the others won't come up to me and had to chose them first. Nothing to worry about," he responded unimpressed. "With or without a disadvantage, I'll win this thing for certain."

Karlos raised an eyebrow and his expression showed he did not like his reaction. "We are quite self-confident again, aren't we?"

"It's just the truth. Nothing more, nothing less." Ganondorf was serious about it, there was no place for any doubts.

"I'm afraid that exactly this arrogance will lead to your fall one day. Maybe even sooner than you wish." Karlos sighed with a touch of desperation. "What does it actually take to make you not underestimate somebody or even something? Did I fail that miserable to teach you this in all those years? It must be around thirteen by now. " But Ganondorf did not answer. He only stared self-confidently at Karlos, crossing the arms before his chest before the other only added, "I'll see you tomorrow then. And be here at time. We have still a lot of work to do if we want to make your self-proclaimed truth a reality and not let it rot as a dream of an arrogant fool."

Ganondorf nodded with a satisfying smile. His motivation to hone his skills was at its highest peak because his dream was on the edge of finally becoming true. Though it flattered his pride to be given the honor to take part in the tournament, held only every four to five years and therefore belonging to the best at the arena, he could not care less about such things by now. It was only the reward of the champion he desired because this one was probably the most precious thing a man could ever gain. It was his freedom.

But besides his confidence, Ganondorf knew it would be everything except easy to become the winner and remain undefeated for three battles in a row. This time, his opponents were not mindless monsters or lesser skilled gladiators; they would fight in his league with the same goal in mind. In the end, this tournament was the only chance for them of getting free and they all knew it. Because Hoping that their master would let them free out of mercy or pity was wasted time. That would never happen. Never.

* * *

The days almost passed by in a flash in which Ganondorf trained together with Karlos. To his pleasure, he felt that his trainer was motivated as well to bring him in his best form. In the end, Karlos was not for nothing one of the very few, if not only one, Ganondorf carried sincere respect for. One that was not solely based in the imbalance in power between them and that was because Karlos was the one that cared for him since he was a child.

Even though he was tough and strict, taking his work very seriously and not letting pass any inappropriate behavior without punishment or at least a warning, he proved to have a heart in times needed. Especially when Ganondorf was younger and because he had no memory besides his name when he was brought to the arena. Neither about his true parents nor his origin.

Not knowing about his past truly bugged Ganondorf at times though he hoped to seek it out once he was free. The only thing that Karlos told him when he was older was that the people who actually sold him to Azett claimed to have found him wandering around in a wasteland, lost in orientation and in a very exhausted condition. They would have cared for him but since they were low on money, they had to trade him for it. However, how much of it was true or not, he could not tell.

Yet from that point on, Karlos was assigned to be his trainer and in regard to his young age, his educator as well. However, since he was meant to become a gladiator one day, most of it was about the different styles of combat and the manners that were expected from arena fighters, including the complete submission towards their superiors. But even though Ganondorf was considered a slave, his pride was unbreakable, no matter what sentence he earned again and again for acting rebelliously at times. A nature that even Karlos never got out of him entirely and that always crawled back to the surface to cause trouble.

However, the last day before the Great Tournament came sooner than expected. Again, Karlos had ordered Ganondorf to the training ground and according to the sun's stand it was still early midday when he said, "That's enough. We end the training here."

Ganondorf, who cut of the head of a wooden training puppet, turned around, unable to hide his astonishment and also annoyance. "What? Why's that? The day only began."

"There is no meaning in going on. The time is better used if you're in a rested condition tomorrow and not exhausted even before the first fight begins," Karlos explained calmly, yet his intention made clear he was determined about his instruction.

But Ganondorf remained stubborn. "That won't affect me. Let's go on."

"What you haven't learned by now, you won't in the next few hours either. Now stop questioning my orders, they're not up for discussion. Give me the weapon," demanded Karlos and stretched out his hand but Ganondorf only stared angrily at him. It did not impress Karlos when he added more forcefully, "Ganondorf, don't overstep my patience on the last day. You'll regret it."

It always hit him when Karlos used his full name instead of the short since he only did when he got annoyed. If he continued in disobeying him at this point, the consequences were most of the times not very amusing. However, he could not suppress all of his displeasure when he pushed the weapon in Karlos' hands.

"Now repair the poor soldier. It's a pathetic view to see him this headless," Karlos ordered further. "And afterwards, get yourself something to eat and rest. I don't want to see you strolling around too much today. You hear me, Ganon?" But he did not answer when he picked up the wooden head. "I've asked you a question. And I expect an answer, Ganondorf!"

"Yes, I heard," he responded harshly without turning around while he fiddled on the training dummy.

"If you do not wish to be taken out of this tournament in the last seconds, I highly recommend rethinking your position here and therefore the choice of your intonation." There was no doubt in Karlos' voice that he was serious about his menace.

To remain calm, Ganondorf drilled his fingers into the wood that it even hurt him. But losing his temper and throwing a tantrum now would not help. Not at all.

"I have heard it," he answered calmly when he looked at Karlos and swallowed up most of his upcoming rage. "But your demands make me doubting if you even want me to win."

Karlos expression remained sternly and Ganondorf feared that he should have left out the last statement. Yet, to his surprise, the seriousness changed into laughter and after Karlos had calmed down again, he explained, "You still have a long way in front of you if you think this is my reason. But to tell you the truth, I'll retire after the tournament. Therefore you would do me a favor if you actually make it. I've stayed even longer in these grounds than I first intended because of your participation."

At the first moment, Ganondorf was caught in astonishment. He never expected that Karlos had intentions like these when he stumbled, "You'll retire? Then why wasting more time here than needed? That's preposterous."

"And give my responsibility for you to another trainer and witness how all my hard work with you goes to waste?" Karlos looked at him as if he had made a very dumb suggestion. "No, Ganon. I'm used to your short-temper and know how to handle your tantrums. I doubt that if any other would have taken my legacy, you would have gotten the permission to ever take part into the tournament. And believe me, the reason would not have been your lack of skill or ability."

Ganondorf stared disbelieving at Karlos. He was unsure if he got the meaning of his words right as they sounded a way to irrational to be true. "Are you telling me that you only stayed because of me?"

Karlos forced a small smile and scratched on his neck. "Oh, Ganon. Sometimes I don't know what to do with you." From one second to another, Karlos regained his strong expression. "But I think since we're almost at the end now, there's no meaning anymore to make it a secret before you. See, Ganon, I always believed that it's worse enough that you have no memory of the outer world. Just imagine that you would never know anything else besides the life inside these walls and only hear the stories from the outside never fit my liking. I admit, when your master first told me about you, I hoped you would find your death soon to spare you all of it. The way of a gladiator is hard even for the strongest man, but forcing such a child to follow it is inhuman. The youngest before and after you were at least in their late preteens."

Karlos made a short pause, but Ganondorf had no intentions to interrupt him this time. "But even though I never figured out how your master was able to see your talents at such a young age, you showed me otherwise. I was surprised. And very impressed. You fought as if you were born into a warrior tribe and seeing how you improved over the years, I realized that you might make it through this slavery, alive, and belong to the very few who're able to regain their freedom." Karlos stared up to him, directly into his eyes, when he concluded, "That said, Ganon, there is no one in this world I would wish it more to win this tournament." He stopped for a short moment and continued with a darker voice, "If you just would win it, that is."

Ganondorf did not know how to react. Karlos had never told him anything similar like this nor was he used to such conversations. The words confused him but it was the last statement that gained his most attention at this moment as it disturbed him. "What's the matter with the 'if'? Do you have doubts I'll win?"

Karlos eyed him with a touch of suspicion before he responded, "Well, out of all the participants, you're superior in terms of physical strength. This, combined with your use of the sword and the protection of a heavy armor, makes you probably even the most powerful among them. Under normal circumstances, you should be able to become the champion. Of course it won't be easy but you have everything on your sleeve that it takes to become the one."

"Yeah. That's how it is and will be," agreed Ganondorf without hesitation, though he sounded slightly annoyed. "But when you know it, why the 'if'?"

"The 'if' is your old archenemy that has befallen you right now. Again. Do you know whom I mean?" Ganondorf looked irritated at him but could not give him an answer. He witnessed how Karlos' expression became annoyed when he tauntingly explained, "Your arrogance. The exact one that often results into carelessness. I can't even count anymore how many battles you could've won with ease if you just hadn't underestimate your opponent, but instead came out cluttered with injuries. However, you know that if you make this mistake tomorrow, it'll be the end of the road? Forever?"

"Those are chestnuts. They have no meaning anymore," put Ganondorf the accusation off. "I lacked the power back then. That was all. No need to worry about these ones."

"And I tell you now, Ganon, as I did more than once before. You shouldn't be that overconfidently about yourself. You won't win the tournament with mere power alone," responded Karlos sharply and his glare was piercing. It even left an uncomfortable feeling inside Ganondorf. "If you can't utilize the right tactic against the right opponent, you'll lose, no matter how powerful you might be. If you pay attention to this, you have everything to make your way to the top. Just don't let your naughty attitude and short-temper snatch the victory from under your nose. Have you gotten this?"

"Yes," responded Ganondorf in a neutral fashion even though it bugged him. But his only intention was to end the lecturing. He could neither hear nor endure it anymore. It was always the same and there was no meaning in disagreeing. It would only make it worse and more important: longer.

"Good. Then leave now, get your meal and relax do be fit for tomorrow," ordered Karlos though his expression told he was not convinced of Ganondorf's answer. "And remember my words out there."

Ganondorf only nodded when he left him.

* * *

**Author's Note**

Thanks to all the ones who read my fanfic and who support it. I'm really happy to see you're interested in this rather uncommon story about Ganondorf. :)

However, if there are things you want to say, positive or negative, I can only encourage you to do it. I always appreciate to get different opinions and since this story still has a quite long road to go, it could help me to improve it or at least let me think about some things that work or rather don't and see how to handle them in the future.


	5. Let the Games begin

**Chapter V – Let the Games begin**

A slicing sound of a sword. A bloodcurdling scream. A numb noise. Then nothing else but pure silence. And even though the eyes of the young boy were opened, the darkness had swallowed up everything except for a lonely light which shined through a small rift, yet did not even reach him.

The time he spent alone in the dark felt like an eternity and he had long lost the track of time. The pressure resting on his body was almost unbearable but he knew he had to stay for he was told that death alone waited outside if they got aware of his hiding. They, the cold-blooded and remorseless death knights.

He tried to crawl deeper into the edge, pressing his face and hands further against his knees because of the fear inside his heart. Barely could he hold back his tears for he was told a man did not cry. Never.

All of a sudden the light brightened and he saw the silhouette of a human being. "By the Goddess of the Sand, he's still alive. You must take him far away from here. I'll see that I make the way free for you two."

Another one appeared, quietly coming towards him. He felt how soft arms encompassed his body before he heard a female voice saying, "Don't be afraid. Everything will be alright. Just have faith in tomorrow."

With ease the woman picked him up and walked into the light. Once his eyes had familiarized themselves with it, he saw the walls, painted in red and a persistent smell crawled into his nose.

He looked at the bodies that lay motionless on the floor but even though he tried to recognize them, they lacked any detail. And it was the same with these two humans. Though he could tell that they were women due to their voices, their faces were nothing more than a blank plate. A blurred memory he had long since forgotten.

Then, within the blink of an eye, the once calm environment changed. The sounds of clashing metal. Remorseless. The screams. Blood-curdling. The smell. Rotten. The air. Filled with death.

The woman mounted a stallion before it galloped through an ocean of blood with screams of pain caused by those who fought the death knights. Though there was this one, outstanding from the whole rest, clad in black heavy armor with a golden symbol shining on his chest plate. It had to be their leader, the one who slew the most.

It was horrible. He never had witnessed anything even nearly like that. And in that moment he noticed it; he was not a man. Because he cried. And the tears did not stop running down his cheek. If he just could forget those pictures burned into his mind. Those screams piercing his ears. If he just could forget everything of it.

"Hey, you damned redhead. Stop your pathetic wailing and wake up," shouted an angered voice at Ganondorf. Soon afterwards, two hands grabbed him on his shoulders and tried to tear him up, but he was too heavy for that one.

Ganondorf, still terrified and half-asleep, grabbed for the attacker, got him on one arm and without any other forewarning, he forced him down. A surprised outcry sliced the air before the man crashed on the floor. But Ganondorf did not hold himself back when he warped the arm and kept the one down with all his weight behind him.

Shortly afterwards, after he came back to his senses, he realized that the one was Mikrul, his eyes filled with anger and fear alike and his face distorted with pain. Yet Ganondorf was still too tired to react properly and kept him in the position.

"Told you to not rush in if he has nightmares. Now you know the reason why." Ganondorf looked up and saw Raul waiting at the cell door. "And you, let go of him. Otherwise it will get ugly for you in the next few seconds."

Though Raul's voice was still calm, his threatening undertone could not be overheard. However, he did not move to help his comrade. Ganondorf still needed some time before his jumpy breath calmed down again once he realized he was only plagued by a dream and shortly after let go of Mikrul.

"You can be lucky that it's hard to find another fighter in such a short time, redhead," groaned Mikrul as he rubbed over his arm and shook it to lessen the pain. "Otherwise I would have personally ensured that you only enter the arena today to lick it clean."

"Mikrul, keep your mouth shut or I make you fit for this task," responded Raul, undeterred yet sharp, before he addressed Ganondorf, "And you there, get up. The audience is waiting. You have enough time to sleep afterwards. Even for an eternity if you don't perform well."

Ganondorf followed them out of the cell but his thoughts were still on the dream. It was not the first time he had it, quite the opposite, though it had become rare with the time passing by. But even though he assumed that it was linked to his past, he could not make any sense out of it, though it was horrible to watch, every time again. Even now when he almost had reached his twenties, he was bathed in cold sweat in the same way as a child.

However, he had no time left to overthink it further when Raul opened the gate that lead to the preparation room and locked it again once Ganondorf had entered. "Your equipment is over there." Raul pointed to one of the rackets. "See that you get it on quickly, your opponent is already inside the arena."

Without losing a word, Ganondorf headed towards the armor and put it on. It would protect his full body and was empowered with steel on the arms, legs and parts of the upper body. However, it looked a lot more gallant than the worn ones they usually gave out to the gladiators. In regard to the tournament it seemed like they were not only supposed to deliver a good fight but additionally look like honorable warriors. Ganondorf sneered. What a disgusting façade.

To his surprise, the armor fit him very well. Probably the ones today were specially made for their respective fighters, but it did not have a helmet. Though he did not care much for it. Due to his height, it was not easy for an opponent to get in the reach of his head anyway. Furthermore, he always found it more hindering than helping and every time he had one, he quickly got rid of it.

"Good luck out there," wished Raul when Ganondorf put the sword in his hands and eyed it shortly. Nothing special about it despite the decorative aspect, it was not even one for a long range.

"Thanks I guess," responded Ganondorf before he grinned victoriously once he had bound the sword to his armor. "But I don't need luck." The time had come to make use of all his skills and powers he had gained, the only things he needed to become the champion of the most important tournament in his life. He would not fail, now that freedom was finally within his grasp.

The jubilation once he entered the arena was deafening. He thought he was used to it, but today it was a lot louder than usual. When he looked at the audience, he could see that the tribunes were full to the last seat. People even stood in the last rows which were meant as passages. It was for certain that this tournament was loved. Even adored. But in the end, today the most skilled would fight against each other, mercilessly to the end. Only one winner would be declared while the rest would find their death. It was for certain that Azett knew how to get nothing less but the best out of his tools.

Ganondorf headed towards a separated tribune in which the very important persons resided or at least those who Azett deemed worthy of his presence. However, when he was near, one of these people surprised him. Usually, the spectators at it wore a noble garb yet one had a more chivalric looking outfit and his bodily stature made him appear like he was a man who had been out there, on the real battlefields. His warrior-like appearance certainly did not fit with the rich and prosperous people surrounding him.

Shortly their eyes met each other and in an instant the expression of the man darkened. But Ganondorf could not tell why or if he even was the reason because the man soon turned his head around to his neighbor who was indeed Azett.

However, Ganondorf could not afford to get distracted by the man's behavior when he reached his assigned opponent. He took a look to see that he was armed with a trident and he wore a light armor, combined with a shield and a helmet though he could not say if he knew him or not, albeit it would have made no difference if he did.

Both directed their view to Azett who stood up and raised his arms to silence the audience. Only when they calmed down he began his short speech to open the games. Once he finished, the audience began to scream helter-skelter again, showing that they only waited until it would finally begin.

Azett looked down to his two gladiators. "Today it will be the first and only time you do not solely fight for us but for yourselves as well. Therefore I expect you to show us an outstanding fight we have never seen before. And let me assure you of one point: I do not accept anything less than this."

"We will not disappoint you, master. Otherwise, death by the hands of our opponent shall be the apology for our unforgivable failure," answered Ganondorf and the other man simultaneously while they bowed down before Azett.

However, there were no words that could describe even roughly how disgusting Ganondorf found this ritual that every gladiator had to perform before fighting. If it was not Azett who attended, it was another person they had to take this oath. This action should show the complete submission towards their master in front of the whole audience. Failing to do it had severe consequences as it was treated as extreme disobedience.

Ganondorf and his opponent looked a last time at each other peacefully before they walked apart to the middle of the arena, knowing only one of them would leave this battlefield alive. Once Azett would raise his hand, accompanied by a load drumbeat, the fight would start.

* * *

"Is this all you've got? How pathetic. I expected more from you," shouted Ganondorf disdainfully albeit his voice trembled due to the exhaustion. "But it makes this easier for me."

The sun shined remorselessly from the sky. The rays reflected from the steel Ganondorf held in his hand, covered with blood of his opponent mixed with his own. The sweat ran down on both of them, though the heavy armor he wore made the heat even more uncomfortable than it already was.

"Do not think it is over here because it isn't," responded the man who braced himself on the trident that stuck in the earth. It was the result of Ganondorf's reckless attack who sliced his sword continuously at his opponent to break his defense. Even though he had to take some hits himself that inflicted bleeding wounds on his unprotected parts, he broke through it and with a hard hit, he cut through the upper body of his opponent and blew him away into the dust.

The man had recovered by now and lifted himself up, though his bent posture showed that it had hit him hard. He took the trident again and wielded the shield in front of him when he carefully walked towards Ganondorf. Both of them had already used up a lot of their stamina which meant that the last clash would come and declare who would be the winner in this round. But Ganondorf felt confident. He had not a single doubt that he would be that one.

The audience screamed in excitement because they knew the end drew near when the two combatants faced each other. A small distance divided them by now and only one would see another day.

Then there it was. A slice. A clash. Ganondorf's sword crashed into the foe's shield. A stab. A moan. Two of the trident's points drilled through Ganondorf's blood-smeared armor.

But the man was near Ganondorf now. Even though his sword remained in the shield, his left hand was free. Towering above the other and not only trained with steel but in fighting with bare hands as well, his fist crashed into the enemy's skull. His opponent stumbled backwards, the impact only lessened because of his helmet. Otherwise it would have been over by now.

Ganondorf's hand hurt. He shook it to lessen the pain, but the foe's defense was low. The short confusion would be his doom. There was no time to lose now.

He pulled the trident out of his body, ignored the pain as good as possible, and recovered the sword. Afterwards he struck remorselessly at the rival, through the armor, through the flesh, through the muscles. Again and again. There was no time to rest now.

Ganondorf charged forwards, the blade always aimed at his opponent. One strike. Another hit. Blood. The enemy was unable to dodge these assaults. Finally, the man was at his mercy now. But Ganondorf had no mercy for the doomed. He would never get it either. Instead he had to satisfy the sword's hunger for flesh and its thirst for blood. And strike. Again. And again.

For a short moment, when he stood face to face with him, Ganondorf saw it in his eyes. Fear. Even visible through the ventail. The one and only fear of a doomed man had drawn near. His death.

The trident was far out of reach. The power to hold the shield up was lost. It was done. It took one further stab for Ganondorf. The sword ate itself easily through the chest of the man, accompanied by a painful groan. The slain man even lacked the strength to reach out his arms for his slaughterer. He fell down on his knees. Only choking noises left his mouth when he crumbled against Ganondorf's own chest.

He felt it then. One heartbeat. A second one. Soon followed by the last. Afterwards only silence remained. The man had taken his last breath.

The audience cheered pleased. They enjoyed the fight. They enjoyed how two men pierced steel through each other's body until one of them was dead. Disgusting. Plainly disgusting. There was just no other word to describe it.

However, Ganondorf felt no remorse that he had killed him. No pity. No sorrow. And neither grief nor regret. Those feelings had long since gone because the same fate would have awaited him if he had only hesitated a single second. In the end, death always accompanied him, sticking on his hands once they had first placed a sword into them. And either it was the one of his enemy or it would be his own.

Yet it was done. The first victory was his and with it, he was one step closer to freedom with only two fights left. Ganondorf raised his hand to claim the triumph all his own while the body of his opponent lay motionless in the sand before his feet. Once again the rush caused by the sheer exhilaration of gaining victory overshadowed pain and exhaustion alike. Never would he let anybody or anything take this moment away from him. And especially not on this day.

Under load jubilation he left the arena. He had to get fit and prepared for the next game of death.


	6. Life is the Stake for Freedom

**Chapter VI – Life is the Stake for Freedom**

This time, Ganondorf had no complaints in drinking the red potion Dina put in his hand when he was at the infirmary. Even though it tasted disgusting as ever, at least he did not had to be afraid of paying it back. Once this day was over, he would be a free man without any obligations towards the arena or his owner anymore.

Ganondorf was certain he would win because even though he had to take a lot of hits in the battle, and especially the stabs from the last clash still hurt, his wounds were not serious ones. With the treatment he got he could attend the next battle with nearly his full power. And with that one he was unstoppable.

However, even if his injuries would have drastically impeded his health and make it impossible to attend the next fight, he would have been forced into the arena nonetheless. In that case, he would have gotten paired up with a fighter who would have been told before to stave off the inevitable outcome without making the battle dreary. This was only to ensure that it lasted long enough and the audience was pleased before the wounded would die.

"You're in a good mood. Won your first fight, didn't you? Congratulations." The familiar voice disrupted Ganondorf from his thoughts. "But I would've been disappointed if that one had made a fool out of you."

Ganondorf turned his head to the side and looked up to Karlos. "You?" he stuttered after the first surprise had vanished. "I thought none of the trainers were allowed here."

Karlos shrugged his shoulders. "Let's just say that I had some sweet-talk with Dina to persuade her that I can meet my trainee without anybody being informed about it."

"Well, whatever," responded Ganondorf indifferently. "But did you truly expect anything else than me winning? I hope not. But thanks for your trouble to get here and congratulate me on the obvious."

"Boastful as ever, aren't we? Sometimes I wonder if I will miss this obnoxious attitude of yours once our ways separate today," groaned Karlos while his hands hit tiredly his upper legs. "But that wasn't the reason I came here. I came here to give you a little… advice."

"If it's one of these lectures again, then spare me with it. I know what I'm doing and I will win this. No room for 'ifs' and 'buts'," interrupted Ganondorf bugged.

"Listen, Ganondorf. I know the other contestants and the one who will probably be your next opponent and therefore…," continued Karlos unimpressed, but he was soon interrupted again as he caught Ganondorf's attention.

"You know? Who is it?" He was curious even though he had no doubts he would have the upper hand in the next encounter as well. Still, there was no reason why he should not use the advantage to gain knowledge of his foe before the battle even started.

"Listen, Ganondorf. I can't tell you too much since I've already disregarded the rules by meeting you here. But let me say it this way. There is no denying that you're strong but you can also easily become blinded by your own powers and lose sight of any danger." Karlos paused shortly before he continued undeterred, because Ganondorf released an annoyed groan as he hated, even despised it when Karlos talked to him in this way. "My advice regarding your opponent is, be careful outside in the arena. There is someone in this tournament who might not reach your strength at all but he has other powers to compensate it. You can beat him if you do not make the mistake in underestimating him. Keep him at distance. At every time. Don't let him close to you and especially, don't lower your defense and open yourself to him, even if you think victory is yours. Because if you do, it will be your doom. Trust me."

"Laughable," answered Ganondorf plainly and with a wave of his hand he turned the advice off. "You've become senile in your old days. There is no one here who can take on me. And you know it. I survived all these years and lived on only for this tournament. I have to win this and will win this. I'm not allowing any other outcome except this one."

Karlos sighed, audibly annoyed by Ganondorf's confidence. "Do what you want. But remember, pride comes before a fall." He walked towards the door and once he reached it, he turned around a last time. "Just don't cry on my shoulder if you fall. If you're still able to do so and don't rest six feet under."

* * *

The sand whirled under Ganondorf's feet once he crossed the arena again on the early afternoon. The time had come for the second round to begin. His opponent already waited and while standing next to each other, they again mumbled the oath towards Azett before parting.

Yet Ganondorf found his foe surprising. Even though he hated Karlos' lecturing, he did not put it off entirely this time. The stake for this tournament was too high and the price too valuable to blindly force his way through it. But he could not see how this opponent could prove to be dangerous. Not at all.

Not only was he small in height, his body build was average at the most. A leather armor protected his body, but it would be no match for his blade to slice through. He did not even possess a shield to empower his defense and even his weaponry was underwhelming as he duel-wielded shortswords which had a restricted range. Though they had to be the reason why he should not let him come near.

Ganondorf grinned. If there was not any catch like his enemy being able to transform into a more powerful beast, this opponent would not stand even a small chance. This one was inferior, in strength as well as in defense. But there was no reason to complain. It made things easier. A lot easier and in the end, a victory was a victory.

Azett raised his hand, a loud sound echoed over the arena and without hesitation, Ganondorf and his foe drew their steel. However, the man did not make any further movements.

"Are you coming?" Ganondorf walked slowly towards his opponent. "Otherwise, I do." But the man remained silent, only wielding his weapons before him. Since he wore a leather helmet that covered his face, Ganondorf could not tell what caused his hesitation. If it was fear or a plan.

The crowd cheered once Ganondorf dashed towards him, ready to slice his sword through his stomach. He launched the attack. But it did not hit and the sword only cut the air. The opponent had avoided it by quickly stepping aside and counterattacked. Yet his shortsword only hit the steel of Ganondorf's armor. He paid it back instantly with another assault, but it only scratched the armor of his opponent before it fizzled out in the air again.

There was no denying, he was a fast. His speed compensated a great part of his lacking strength and his light armor, though low in defense, proved to be an advantage for his agility. But Ganondorf did not hold back. Remorselessly he began attacking. A slash from the right. A slice from the left. No matter how fast the enemy was, he could not dodge all of these attacks. And he left only few room for a counter. He attacked. Again and again. Hitting flesh and air alike in a never ending series of assaults.

Their steel bit into each other mercilessly. Second by second. Minute by minute. But even though red spots of the opponent's blood covered both their armors, the heavy one of Ganondorf slowed him down. Even though the man's body was cluttered with injuries, none of them were deep. They would not stop and especially not defeat him. A thing Ganondorf had to change if he wanted to get the upper hand because his stamina was drained due to the man's agility. He would not hold up to it forever.

Once again Ganondorf charged at the enemy, the steel at hand. Then the attack. A quiet groan. A bleeding chest. But again, no deep wound. The man dodged it while jumping to the side, preparing for a counterattack. Yet this time, Ganondorf hoped he did. Immediately he made a sidestep, being face to face with his opponent now, who was therefore unable to unleash his onslaught the way he meant to.

Ganondorf grinned. Unfortunately, he could not see the man's expression but he smelled his bafflement. And fear. Only a second later, his sword rushed down and up again, devouring leather and flesh, from shoulder to groin, painting his steel in blood-red.

This time, the scream of pain reached even the audience's ears. Loud and clear. But Ganondorf did not hesitate. The defense of the enemy was low. And the weak spot needed exploitation. With his other bare hand he punched him straight into his face. A cracking sound of broken bones echoed over the battlefield. And with it, Ganondorf had sent the man flying off, his two blades resting towards his own feet now.

Ganondorf took the chance when his opponent landed on his back a few meters in the distance. He rushed towards him, making a quick jump. The sword pointed towards the earth, he was ready to impale his rival and send him to the afterworld. Yet when he dashed down, the steel only hit the sand. In the last moment, the man rolled to the left, barely avoiding his fate.

His enemy made it back on his feet with another somersault. But he was weaponless. And his body trembled, of exhaustion and pain alike. In the end, he could not escape the claws of Ganondorf anymore, who held his rival tight on his arm now, using the advantage of his raw physical power. No struggle would free him again and the sword was ready to drink the enemy's blood again. The second victory was at hand. There was no need to play it safe and keep the man at distance when he could end it right here, right now.

But then, all of a sudden, a searing pain occurred in Ganondorf's right shoulder. Instantly it spread through his arm, up to the hand, into the fingers. It was remorseless. Unbearable. And it robbed his strength. His fingers denied their work. As for the sword, wielded in the position to execute the mortal blow, it slipped through them. Shortly afterwards, it crashed on the ground.

Ganondorf's eyes wandered to the source of his misery. And there he saw it. Tiny and small. A dagger whose blade was forced through the small rift between his protective metal layers. It drilled through muscle and flesh, right into the nerve. Ganondorf realized this third weapon was the true reason why he should have kept his distance until the very end. Yet this realization came too late.

But in the same moment Ganondorf intended to grab it, his opponent warped it in the wound to worsen the injury even further. A blood curling outcry. The inflicted pain spread through all of Ganondorf's body and paralyzed him for a short moment. Exactly then the man spoke to him for the first time. "I admit, I thought I was done. I was afraid you never would keep yourself open to me. But luckily you became careless. And now, my false friend, it's time to turn the table."

Ganondorf looked in irritation at the man. He knew this voice. Very well. But before he could answer, the man pulled out the dagger with a flounce. Reflexively Ganondorf grabbed for the wound, his hand growing wet in an instant. Yet his opponent immediately barged against him and this time, he was the one that lost his balance and fell on his back.

The enemy came after him. With force behind, he kneed down on Ganondorf's chest, the impact only lessened by his heavy armor. Immediately his enemy targeted his head but Ganondorf was able to grab the attacker's arm before he stabbed the dagger through his throat. They both struggled as the man still tried to get his way to slaughter Ganondorf, but he lacked the physical strength to do so. Instead, Ganondorf forced all his power into his arm to threw the attacker off of himself, who bit into the dust a few meters away.

With the time gained, Ganondorf crawled to his sword nearby. However, when he tried to use his right arm, he only felt pain. It hurt. A lot. This enemy certainly knew how to hit the sensitive spot and there was no other way than using his other arm. But the instant he intended to stand up to tackle his opponent again, he felt a cold force entering his body. It stunned him. Instantly. He did not move anymore once the cold power ate through his lower body.

Then there was it. A heavy breath. Not only his own but another directly behind him. He even felt it in his hackles. Shortly afterwards, his opponent whispered, "You are too slow, Ganondorf. Unfortunate, your power lost all of its strength when faced with my speed. Too bad for you."

At first, Ganondorf did not realize what happened. But his hands trembled. Even his entire body. His breath became flat. Apathetically he stared down. And there he saw it, under his armor. A bulge. And its cause stood right behind him.

"If you just had had a full plate armor, eh, Ganondorf?" laughed his opponent hatefully though his voice trembled. "Then I wouldn't have found any spot to pierce my steel through you. But luckily for me, you don't have one. By the Goddesses, it's over. For you."

At this moment, Ganondorf realized who his opponent was. This prominent laugh. It was unmistakable. "You… but why? Risaad…?" stuttered Ganondorf but he soon stopped as he noticed that speaking worsened the pain and furthermore weakened him.

"Oh Ganondorf, this was always your problem," responded Risaad exhausted, but Ganondorf felt that he must have had a cynical smile on his lips. "Just because someone is not an arrogant muscle-bound hunk as you are, it doesn't mean he's weak. But I don't expect someone brainless as you are to understand." He paused shortly, certainly bathing in his pleasure of having the upper hand. "Yet one thing is for certain. I'm very glad that I finally met you on a proper battlefield. No one, not even a guard, interfered to shut up your arrogant mouth and robbed me of the desire to break your pride and self-confidence into tiny little pieces."

Risaad pulled out his shortsword from Ganondorf's lower body and kicked him in the hollow of his knees. He fell forward but he could not do a thing to lessen the fall. His right arm felt numb and the severe wound in his stomach area caused a state of shock.

He lay in the sand, his breath flat. Particles entered his mouth and the blood before his eyes, this time, it was his own. But he denied it. It could not be. He could not be defeated. Especially not by this man.

Ganondorf wished that out of nowhere he would regain his strength. Receive a new power source. Maybe even a divine prank to change the outcome of this battle once again. He would give everything to gain such power now. Even his life. His soul. His very being. If it just meant he would not lose to this man. To everyone but not him. No. Not him.

However, Risaad did not end it immediately. Instead, he stepped over Ganondorf and pushed with one foot against his body to force him on his back. He had to close his eyes for the sun burned into them but he saw that Risaad wielded his shortsword. Soon he would feel the deathblow.

Yet it did not occur though he felt a weight lowering down on his chest. Ganondorf groaned. Breathing became even more difficult as it already was though at least a shadow covered his face and he was able see again. Albeit he wished he never had opened his eyes again as the only thing he saw was Risaad's face with a smile of victory raging all over it. It was even visible through the blood which ran down on it because of his broken nose. The result of the punch from before.

"Don't give up on me so soon, Ganondorf. I've waited so long for this moment, so please, grant me the pleasure to spend some more time with you being at my mercy. You hear me?" Risaad pinched in Ganondorf's cheek.

That was for certain the worst. The humiliation to be unable to defend himself, to even give an answer, it was unbearable. The pain that it inflicted mentally on him was far worse than the injuries on his body. Though he hated to admit it, Risaad achieved what he wanted. He truly broke his pride with this action.

"However, there's one thing I've always wanted to tell you when the right moment arrived. I hope you have enough strength left for this because I would regret it if I had wasted my last chance," said Risaad, unusually serious and his face darkened. "Do you have any idea why I detested you straight from the day I first saw your ugly nose?"

Ganondorf did not answer him, breathing alone was a challenge. He could only release a gasp but it did not hinder Risaad from telling him. "You reminded me of those bandits who robbed me of everything I held dear. But even when they finally got what they deserved after losing the Great War, I got nothing back. Absolutely nothing! And when I struggled to survive and got caught by following a gang of thieves, I was stranded here. But that wasn't the worst. Do you know what was?" Risaad braced himself on Ganondorf's right shoulder who screamed out of pain.

He could not hold himself together anymore and was on the edge of losing his consciousness but Risaad let go. He even loosened the weight on his chest and waited shortly before he continued, "I saw you! You, who looked like one of them!" He paused and seemingly had to keep his aggression under control when he glared dangerously at Ganondorf. "But the worst was, you were still a child in the same age my son would have been if those bandits hadn't provoked this cursed war in which he died. It wasn't fair that some lowlife like you survived when my own son wasn't allowed to see another day."

Due to his bad condition, Ganondorf barely heard Risaad. Even less he understood the meaning of his words or their relation but Risaad had not finished. "Though I must admit, it wasn't that fair of me. Even back then I knew you aren't one of them. You can't be. But I don't regret my aversion at all. Your arrogant behavior proved that you're none better and especially don't deserve better than them."

Risaad's expression became mischievous again. "But we should end it now. The audience is waiting and they should applaud the winner. Me. You've got what you deserved. That's all that matters. But I truly wish they will spare your life." Ganondorf looked doubtfully at him, though he believed that Risaad must have an ulterior motive. "Oh, don't get me wrong. It's because I would love to see you having to endure fighting in this arena until the very end of your pathetic life. Or that you chose your own death out of desperation. That would fit scum like you very well."

Without any other forewarning, Risaad braced himself against Ganondorf's shoulder but with more force behind it. At this point, it was too much for Ganondorf's body to handle. His outcry reached all across the arena before everything turned into a blank and dark slide. The end of his road had come.


	7. Road of Desperation

**Chapter VII – Road of Desperation**

It did not matter how far he walked. It was always the same. Darkness and silence. No light. No noise. Just an uncomfortable prickling in his body. But he was unable to pin the source as it felt to be everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

However, with the time passing by, the prickling began to focus. Soon it grew in its intensity to a point it was strong enough to force him down. First on his knees, then on his hands, his elbows. But even when he crumbled full of pain, it did not vanish. It increased. Further and further. He screamed but it immediately silenced in the darkness. There was no escape and soon it did not only possess his body, but his mind as well.

In that very moment, Ganondorf opened his eyes, releasing a rasping sound when he breathed in. Though he could not see since his field of vision was extremely blurred, there was light and a constant numb sound buzzing in his ears. But it was impossible to tell where he was because his body was too exhausted to feel out his environment.

Yet one thing tortured him. And it was remorseless in doing so. A pain that spread from his shoulder. He tried to get into a more relaxed position to lessen it, but his body was too weak to make a reasonable movement. He had to endure it until it would lessen by itself.

Once the time passed by and his senses recovered further, he figured out that he was at the infirmary, though he could not remember when he was brought here or what led to his injuries. When he tried to grab the details, they vanished in the depth of his memory again.

However, from one moment to the next, his blood rushed faster through his veins. Fragments of him training with Karlos showed before his inner eyes. And he trained hard, every day. Shortly afterwards, he remembered the reason: the Great Tournament was at hand, maybe it was even less than a day by now.

Ganondorf grumbled. He had no time to care for his shoulder, he had to get up on his feet. Yet he regretted his hectic movement of lifting up his upper body a little because a pain radiated from his stomach area that was fierce enough to stun him, forcing him to fall back with a load groan. That one was gruesome, it overshadowed even the one in his shoulder. He never thought that he could get that badly injured in a training season, albeit it would be interesting to know what Karlos did to him.

Before Ganondorf could further panic about losing his tournament attendance, he felt a hand on his arm. "Are you awake?" He slightly turned his head to the side to see Dina, though he noticed that even this took an effort. "You certainly are tough as nails. I wasn't even sure if I can get you through after all the blood you've lost, but seems like you were lucky and the steel hasn't hurt any vital spots."

Ganondorf looked irritated at Dina since he did not get why she talked about him like he had been doomed. Yet she paid no attention to his confusion. "I had given you about a week or two before declaring your death but that you only needed four days to come back to your senses… impressive."

Dina bended herself over Ganondorf's head when she straightened the area around his eyes to look into them. "You feel a bit dizzy by now, but this will go away. Give us three to four days and the injury through your underbelly will healed up enough that you are able to get up again. Though it will still take some more time before you can fight again but that's not important now. First of all, you must rest."

Ganondorf stared bewildered at Dina after it dawned on him what might have happened. The question about it was burning on his tongue, but he was afraid of the answer. He feared that his worst nightmare, that the wounds did not originate from training but from an arena battle, might be true. But when he tried to ask Dina, only grunting sounds left his mouth.

Dina loosened the bandages on his lower body to examine his wounds when she responded indifferently, "I don't speak the pig's language. If you have something to say, do it in a way I understand. Otherwise keep quiet to let your body rest. It needs this."

Ganondorf got mad at himself, how he even failed to express himself properly. It was embarrassing. But as long as he did not know for certain what caused his actual situation, he would not find rest. Therefore, he pulled himself together and muttered, "What… happened…"

Dina interrupted her work when she eyed Ganondorf suspiciously. "You don't remember?" For a short time, she looked worried but that expression soon vanished and she returned to her work. "The loss of memory must have been caused by the state of shock. Nothing to further worry about. For your question, the guards who should cart off your corpse noticed you were still breathing. Azett asked the audience if they wished to spare your life or call the executioner to crush your skull. You know it, the usual procedure with defeated gladiators who survived."

Without warning, Dina dropped an ice-cold mixture on Ganondorf's stomach. Caught off-guard, he cringed together which his body punished him with a searing pain. Though Dina continued her telling without paying attention to his groaning, "You can figure out yourself that those who rose their hand to see you live outnumbered those who wanted to see you dead. And besides the champion, you're the only one who made it out alive."

Meanwhile, two guards in the company of another fighter came in. "We have a costumer for you," said one of the man, unperturbed. "Can we store him here anywhere?"

"Yes, put him on a bed. I'm coming once I'm finished," answered Dina without giving a look, though Ganondorf noticed none of it. He only thought about the events Dina told him, but the realization that resulted from it was the worst. Because his dream, his hope of freedom, it was crushed. Shattered. Even destroyed. Entirely.

At this very moment, he felt nothing. Not anger. Not desperation. Not grief. Nothing. There was just a deep and empty hole inside him. Because this time, he had not only lost a battle, no, he had forfeited his entire life. Forever.

* * *

The days followed and Ganondorf neither had thirst nor hunger. If it was not for Dina forcing him to eat by threatening to call the guards if he kept on refusing, he would not even have touched his meals. In the end, he could not even think of one time in his entire life were his morale felt that low.

Ganondorf had lost the single reason that kept him on fighting. Albeit the days, even years seemed endless and he never knew if he got out alive from a fight or not, there was always this single light of hope. The hope that one day he became a free man. A master of his own. But it had vanished because neither anybody ever attended the Great Tournament a second time nor would he ever have the money to buy himself free. His life had hit a dead end. And for him, there was no way out of it.

It was the first time that Ganondorf tasted utter defeat. He never believed he could be such a broken man. But he was. His pride, his self-confidence, his willpower, they had made place for doubts and even desperation.

Yet it was on the fourth day after he regained his consciousness, when a well-known man entered the room. A sardonic smile appeared on his face when he walked towards him. "Well, redhead. I had some business here, so I thought I might give you a visit and enjoy how lousy you feel."

Ganondorf eyed him shortly before he turned his head away and responded harshly, "I have to disappoint you. I feel good. At least a few seconds ago, but I'm certain that once you leave, the good feelings return." He did not show any weakness to Mikrul, he never would, even though it was very hard for him to hide it and keep his strong façade.

"My dear worthless redhead. If I were you, I would watch my tongue very carefully. Because I don't think that your obnoxious attitude will do you any good from now on." Ganondorf looked in irritation at Mikrul, though that one's expression remained relaxed. Furthermore, he had an intonation that did not fit his liking. Not at all. "You should better behave and tame your temper if you don't want to rot away in a dark cell for the rest of your life."

Ganondorf needed a few seconds before he had found back his tongue and responded bugged, "You can leave that to Karlos. And you can immediately leave as well if you have nothing worthy to say."

A hateful laughter filled the room. Gladly, Mikrul was out of his reach, otherwise he was not sure if he had been able to restrain himself from getting violent and crush his skull on the next wall. However, at least Mikrul was good enough to distract him from his frustrating thoughts. At least one time in his life he proved to be useful for anything.

Once Mikrul had calmed down, he said, amused, "Hasn't Karlos told you about his retirement? I can't believe it. But he's gone, redhead. Gone. And he won't come back. Especially not for some trash like you are."

Ganondorf felt how his face color must have become pale from one moment to another. In that very moment, the memories rushed back. He remembered it. Very clear now. The conversation with Karlos on the last day before the tournament.

"Oh, seems like you can use your brain sometimes. Though you become almost likable when you're speechless. Maybe it's because you spare your environment your incredible arrogance." Ganondorf would probably never forget the disdainful grin on Mikrul's face. "The good, old Karlos. It's a shame you haven't met him after your pathetic defeat. I have never seen him this mad and miserable at the same time. He was frightening to the bones. No one even dared to get near him. Must have hit him hard seeing you lose, regarding that he had intentions to keep you with him until you had familiarized yourself with the outer world. If it wasn't for Dina, he probably would have come here and torn you apart because you've ignored his advices. Again." He waved with his hand, releasing a sneering sound. "But you always ignore them. You're just that dumb. Much muscles, few brain. That's the redhead we know and hate."

Ganondorf did not answer him. Albeit he despised that man, he did not believe that he lied about Karlos. It made him feel even worse to know what he was willing to do for him if he had just won this tournament. And now he had lost that one as well. The one he knew and who cared for him since childhood. The one he respected and liked. At least a bit.

"A hard world, isn't it? You've disappointed the only man that liked you. You know, you're such a failure, through and through. It doesn't surprise me anymore that your blood related abandoned you in that desert." Mikrul brought out in a hateful laughter again.

Ganondorf did not know what to answer. He did not even know what to feel anymore. From one moment to the next, his whole situation had become even worse than it was already.

"Who is responsible for this noise? This as an infirmary, not the arena," interrupted Dina furiously when she rushed into the room. Once she got sight of Mikrul, her expression darkened. "Haven't you fulfilled your duty here already?"

"I thought to give the redhead a short visit. Wanted to see how he feels after his dreams were shattered," answered Mikrul disdainfully.

"I didn't ask what you're doing here and neither does it interest me. But since you're done, leave! You hinder my work with your noise. My patients need rest and silence and not some self-important snob!" Ganondorf rarely saw her in such a mood but even though she never showed to be emotionally involved with her patients, she practiced her work with passion.

"Okay, okay. No trouble. I'm out." Soothingly he waved his hands and walked towards the door. "But we'll met again, redhead. Assuming you haven't drowned yourself in self-pity by then." With a loud laughter he left while Dina still looked fiercely after him.

Once Mikrul was gone, Ganondorf stared thoughtlessly at the ceiling. He felt lousy. Extremely lousy. Everything that gave his life a meaning, a reason to fight on, it was all gone. At that point he was unable to hold his frustration back anymore. "Why hadn't you just let me die back then?" he muttered. "It has all become way beyond pointless."

Dina stood beside his bed, taking a look at his injuries. She lifted her head from the wounds and he expected that she either commented on it indifferently or ignored his statement entirely. But instead, she reacted in a way he never believed her capable of. Dina smacked him. Forcefully. The pain in his cheek remained even minutes afterwards.

Ganondorf was too baffled to react in any way, but she had not finished with him when she yelled, "Got a hold of yourself! You call yourself a man, then act like one! And if you want to die that badly, than let the beast feast on you. There are enough people in this world that die for no reason, at least give your death a meaning by feeding those. But by any means, spare me your self-pitying wailing. It's pathetic and a waste of my time that others who want to survive are in need of."

Without waiting for an answer, Dina stood up. Yet her glare pierced through him, burning into his mind, before she left him without any other words. Ganondorf absently touched his cheek. It still hurt and he had not experienced her that mad before. Never. Neither had he believed she would ever show her emotions.

Dina did not come back and the time passed by. Seconds, minutes, hours. Yet her simple action had touched his pride. His willpower. They awoke, slowly, after they had fallen into a slumber. And the reason why they returned was because he realized he had become a type of a man whom he loathed from the bottom of his heart due to their lack of power. Because he pitied himself. He swallowed up in his own misery. Yet the worst of it: he gave up fighting. He just gave it up.

Ganondorf clinched his fists. Dina was right. It was pathetic. He himself was pathetic. But he would not let himself be overpowered by weakness or fear. No. He was strong. He was powerful. Even though he might not have a chance to become free, his death should not be that pathetic. If he had to leave this world then he would do it with his head held high and a sword in his hand.

* * *

**Author's Note**

I admit, it took me a rather long time to work on this chapter until I was satisfied with it. To put Ganondorf in such a situation and neither skip the whole part after he lost and act like nothing bad happened nor let him become too OOC with his life-dream broken was a true challenge.  
My beta-reader removed a lot of the doubts I had about that part and I hope the reactions come of as suitable for the characters for the other readers as well. :)


	8. The chosen One

**Chapter VIII – The chosen One**

The days passed by and with the find of a new lease of life, Ganondorf had furthermore found a reason to keep on. As of now, he had fallen into a slumber, a restful one. Yet it did not last long when a rude shaking woke him, shortly afterwards followed by an annoyed grumble. "By the three Goddesses, wake up you sleepyhead!"

Still half-asleep, Ganondorf tried to get rid of the unpleasant person and mumbled some inarticulate words. He was tired. He wanted to sleep. And his wounds were not healed, he could neither fight nor fulfill any other task. Or at least, he was unwilling to do so now. Yet the man ignored his reluctance when he said, bugged, "Take your beauty sleep another time. There is someone who wants to see you."

Without getting what the man actually said, Ganondorf responded irritably, "Then tell this someone he shall come back later. Or even better, stop bothering me at all and stay away forever."

The man sighed and at the same time, he let go of him. Finally. Ganondorf cuddled up in his bed again when all of a sudden, something cold and wet touched his face. It immediately pulled him out of his sleep and within the split of a second, he sat upright.

"Some jokes just never get old. And your expression is priceless as well." Ganondorf looked into the amused face of Raul who held a glass in his hand, though he was too perplexed to answer. But shortly afterwards, Raul's smile vanished. "Yet I hadn't asked you if you want to see anybody or not, I said there is someone waiting and you will come with me. Now put on some clothing and get up."

Though he always despised the way they ordered him around, there was no meaning in refusing unwaveringly. He had experienced that more than once when he had overstepped the borders of what they were willing to tolerate. Unfortunately, he himself was the one who suffered from the consequences and not them.

While Ganondorf took the rags that Raul had thrown on his legs, he could not stop but wonder who wanted to see him. If it would have been Azett or anybody else of the arena, Raul would have called him either by name or title. "Who wants to speak with me?" asked Ganondorf once he had managed to get into the clothing. Though his wounds had healed well, a careless movement was still painful.

"See for yourself." Raul waved his hand to indicate that Ganondorf should follow him. Though it itched strong on his tongue to repeat his question as he loathed it when they got ignored, he assumed it was better to not upset Raul. His intonation had made clear that he had no intentions of telling.

Ganondorf walked behind him, but he became even more confused when he observed his surroundings. He never had been in these corridors, not even in this whole part of the facility. Gladiators were not permitted to enter those ones. At least not alone and alive.

"You should better stick to me. Otherwise, I can't promise you'll get out of here with your head on your shoulders," said Raul when he noticed Ganondorf's hesitation. The guards looked suspiciously at him and nervously fiddled around on their sword's hafts as if they were only waiting for him to make a wrong movement to pierce their steel through his body.

Still wondering about the ominous person, he almost bumped into Raul when the man suddenly stopped and turned around. "They're waiting in here." Raul pointed at a door while he eyed Ganondorf, a fierce view, before he added in a menacing manner, "These are important people to our kingdom. I trust you to not do anything funny because if you do, you will regret it. Therefore I can only advise you to behave in a proper manner. I hope that you will take this to heart. At least this one time."

However, Ganondorf only listened half-heartily. He was too curious to know what this hassle was about for he had never heard of visitors who wanted to see one of the fighters. Without giving Raul any answer, he pushed the handle down and entered the room.

There he saw them, three in numbers, sitting behind a desk in the small and otherwise empty room. But he did not take a seat because his eyes rested entirely on the tall man sitting in their middle. He had only seen him once, briefly, and already had forgotten him a few moments later after their encounter. Yet this one glare on him was enough that his memories about him rushed back. That man was the warrior-like spectator who sat right next to Azett at the tribune, watching the tournament.

"That is him. The one I told you about. Seems like it was worth the time to come here again before we settled off," said that man towards the other two. His short black hair had some grey between them and the three-day-beard covered his sharp facial features. Though he shared the characteristic of pointy ears with the others.

The man's view rested on Ganondorf. Yet it made him feel uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable. Those grey eyes, they looked dull and emotionless, even worse than those of veteran gladiators like him. This man had certainly seen death more times than he had himself. But it was not all they gave away. He could see it in them that he brought it to others in an even greater dimension than he himself.

Yet Ganondorf was overwhelmed in such a degree that he could not bring out a single word even though it questioned him what they wanted. By their outer appearance alone, they must be warriors. Real warriors, who fought out there on the battlefields not for entertainment but for their beliefs, as all three wore armor, well-crafted ones that he had never seen inside these walls, adorned with a golden symbol. Three triangles, connected in a way to form an even greater one, held by an abstracted bird beyond it.

"Are those guys even able to speak?" The man to the left yawned. Though his brown hair covered a lot of his face, he looked bored. He placed his elbow on the table and braced his head on it while he grumbled, "In all honor, Sir, don't you think we waste our time? I still don't get what about him appeals to you. He's just another outlaw who is here to fight and give pleasure to others. He's not even a Hylian, but rather..." The man observed Ganondorf from head to feet but he did not seem like he got a satisfying answer. "Something else."

"Can't you show more respect? It doesn't matter if he's a Hylian or not, if he's a farmer or gladiator. He's a human like anybody else, not a tool. Even though a lot people like to forget that fact," responded the third one, a blond-haired man. In comparison to the others, he was a lot less bulky and smaller in size, but the determination shining in his eyes was outstanding.

"You are aware that those tools are bandits, marauders and even murderers? What's human on those lowlifes?" asked the brown-haired man undeterred but with a provocative undertone.

"And you are aware that there are also orphans and the poor who slid into this?"

"Link and Jyrik. Stop it, the both of you. We're not here to discuss these matters. You confuse our visitor even more than he already seems to be. Not very polite when you ask me." They both nodded towards the man in the middle before they fell silent. The man returned his attention to Ganondorf again. "Now that this is settled, I assume it's more comfortable for you to have a seat. It is also more pleasant for me if we can talk at eye level."

Ganondorf had not spoken one word. He still did not realize what was going on and what the meaning was. But at least he had overcome his first astonishment and sat down.

"Probably you're wondering about our visit, but first of all, let me introduce you to us. My name is Aldar. I'm the high general of the army of Hyrule and those men are two of my lieutenants. He's called Link," Aldar pointed at the blond man, "and this here is Jyrik. It was business concerning the Kingdom of Hyrule that brought us to this region. But when I got informed that the Great Tournament was around, I was adamant to watch it as long as my time would allow it. I know, it sounds weird, maybe even barbarous in your ears, but sometimes a man of my degree appreciates it to observe a serious battle from the distance where neither his men nor he himself has to defend lives," explained Aldar though he never let go of his view of Ganondorf.

However, he was too perplexed to fully comprehend Aldar's explanation as he still struggled to believe that they belonged to the army, yet that this man should be their leader. There was no reason, at least not a reasonable one, why somebody of such a status should bother to visit a gladiator that had even lost the tournament.

"Your name was Ganondorf, wasn't it?" Confused as he was, he only nodded before Aldar continued thoughtfully, "It's an unusual name, not to say I've never heard of it or anything similar before. You must know, I've come around a lot on all my journeys and missions, but when I first heard the name and saw you, I wasn't able to assign you to any race. I admit, it was my curiosity that led me to ask Azett if I could meet you to ask you personally about it, after I've heard from him you survived and were brought back to consciousness."

A shiver ran down Ganondorf's neck. He could not explain it, but for some reason, even though Aldar remained polite, his presence became cold. Ice-cold, up to a point it was solely frightening. He felt that Aldar observed him carefully to catch every stitch he might make as if he had met an old archnemesis after years and only waited for the moment that his masquerade crumbled to reveal his true self.

But once Ganondorf had recovered from the unpleasant feeling, he responded with a clear and undeterred voice, "I can't tell you either." He had no interest in explaining the circumstances further because he felt no need that Aldar got to know his lack of memories. He could very well have some ulterior motives for coming and he was not keen to play straight into his hands.

"I see." From one moment to the next Aldar's cold presence vanished. "Azett had told me that you have a memory loss from your earlier childhood, but I thought you might remember anything nonetheless. My apology that I've asked. It was rude of me. I can only barely imagine how hard it must be to not know where one belongs to and where one's own origin roots are." However, there was, even though it only lasted less than a second, this disdainful glare in his eyes.

Nervously Ganondorf rubbed along his trousers. When Aldar told the truth of travelling the world a lot, this one could indeed prove to be a chance to get to know at least a bit about his past. A chance that he probably would never get again. Yet he did not trust the man, but if Azett had already told him about his lacking memories and most likely about other things as well, there was no reason to make a secret out of it further. "If you came around in this world that much as you claim, can you think of a place I might be from?"

A small smile appeared around Aldar's lips but it soon disappeared. "I can only come up with assumptions. But since you're dark-skinned you're probably from an area with a hotter climate. If we go to the extreme, maybe it is even the desert itself. But unfortunate, all the folks I know that hail from those areas don't fit your appearance. My apology to disappoint you yet again."

"Although I've never seen one myself, from what I've heard about them and if we furthermore leave out the gender, he looks pretty much like a Gerudo," intervened Link but Aldar immediately cut him off.

"Don't even dare to mention these pests in my presence!" Aldar's fist rushed forcefully down on the table. Ganondorf and the other two cringed together as they all had not expected that outburst from the otherwise reserved man. But it was for certain that, for whatever reasons, Aldar had some serious issues with the Gerudos.

Once he had calmed down again, the anger in his eyes vanished but his sharp tone remained. "Why do you even bother him by telling this? That exception you mentioned, it's the absolute evidence he isn't related to them, regardless of how many similarities he shares. They were all women not because they abandoned their male successors; they didn't give birth to any in the first place. Never! No exceptions! And I hope I don't have to explain anybody in here how these pests once preserved their cursed bloodline."

Link and Jyrik shook their head whereas Ganondorf just watched the scene, but he did not take too many thoughts on the topic. Aldar loosened his gaze from Link and turned towards Ganondorf again, saying in a polite manner, "I apologize that we can't help you on that matter. As I said, my curiosity was the reason I came here."

The time passed by where they only stared in silence at each other. However, Ganondorf assumed the conversation was over. It was unfortunate that they were not of any help in regard to his past, but since he would not get out of the arena, it did not matter much because he could not set off a journey to seek out his roots. Yet, at least they had given him some entertaining minutes before the dull daily life routine would begin anew.

Ganondorf stood up and said bluntly, "Then we have finished. Good bye." He was never a man of great sentiments and he certainly had not intentions to change it when he walked in the direction of the door.

"You don't belong to the most polite or patient ones. Or are you in a hurry?" At first, Aldar sounded reserved but he soon became provocative. "A shame. Sometimes it might be wise to wait two or three minutes longer before turning your back on someone. Did you know that this behavior can equal your death in a battle if your opponent is able to stand up once again? Trust me; even the most powerful can be defeated by the weak because of such carelessness. You, as a gladiator, should know better than this."

The intonation of Aldar did not fit Ganondorf's liking. Not at all. He turned around, gazing sinisterly at him before he countered, "If you want to stab me in the back, you should better do so without giving out warnings beforehand. You, as a supposed general, should know better than this."

"How dare you speak with the high general in such a way?! Show some respect, you offscum!" burst Jyrik out but Aldar already stopped him.

"No need to feel insulted, Jyrik." He turned back to Ganondorf. "But I'm impressed. You're a gladiator for over a decade, yet you have such a rebellious behavior. Seems like you're strong willed and proud," acknowledged Aldar. "And a bit arrogant as well."

Then Aldar's face lightened. "But no fear, I have no intentions in backstabbing you. It is against my morals to slay down a wounded. That is, as long it's outside of war." His voice had became cold for a short moment again. "But it's a lot easier to speak if I don't have to yell across the room."

Ganondorf hesitated. On one side, he did not see any meaning in continuing the conversation. And this Jyrik was annoying, he could very well be the lost twin brother of Mikrul with his obnoxious behavior. On the other hand, he had no an interest in fulfilling the tasks that the guards would throw at him once he went out. Furthermore, he had nothing to lose and he still could take his leave when the situation got unbearable.

"I have another question for you. And I want an honest answer. However, it will never leave this room, therefore you don't need to be afraid of any consequences," said Aldar calmly once Ganondorf sat in front of him again. "Are you keen of the life as a gladiator?"

At first he looked in irritation at Aldar. He expected many things but not that one. Though he wondered why a warrior would ask such a thing and said straight-forwardly, "What a dumb question. Would you like to fight for nothing but enjoyment for others when the price for losing can be your own life? And you do this over and over again and nothing changes, ever? Or be ordered around and fulfill the ridiculous bidding of your master or refuse and get punished? No man with sense in his mind would be keen of such a pathetic life and those who do deserve nothing better than this hell."

"You certainly don't even try to mince your words, but I expected your answer would be along these lines. But listen, Ganondorf. Now that we had this nice chitchat, I have a proposal for you." Aldar leaned forward on the table, nearer towards Ganondorf. Then he lowered his voice before he continued in a forceful manner, "However, I make it only once. Therefore you should carefully choose your answer. Do you want to fight real battles on a real battlefields as a real warrior?"

Ganondorf did not trust his own ears and stared speechless at Aldar, but he was not the only one. The two lieutenants, Link and Jyrik reacted the same before the last one recovered and boasted upset, "In all honor, High General Aldar, but you aren't serious, are you? You aren't truly intending to take a lowlife into the glorious army of Hyrule, the protectors of the kingdom since centuries, are you? He's a gladiator, an outlaw, even a slave to his master. He has not what it takes to become or even be an honorable knight. Scum like him will never fit into our ranks!"

It needed one fierce glare of Aldar before Jyrik silenced instantly. "I know we're recently not on duty, but even then you should watch your tongue. Or do you intend to question your 'master'?"

"Of course not, Sir. My apology for this inappropriate behavior," answered Jyrik subdued.

"This is indeed better for you," responded Aldar harshly before he returned towards Ganondorf again. "And now you. What is your answer?"

Ganondorf still could not believe it. But he knew that even if he wanted to, it was impossible. "Well, the temptation is great. However, Azett will never agree to this. I can be the most worthless subject he has, but if it goes the road of giving that one away, I instantly become the most precious fighter he ever possessed in his entire life."

Aldar shook his head in a lecturing way and put his concerns off with a wave of his hand. "Azett was neither my question nor should it be your issue. Now, let's do it again. Do you want to become a true warrior?"

Ganondorf did not hesitate with his answer. "Of course I want." His knowledge about the army might be small and he did not know what they expected from him, but he could not care less. If he stayed in the arena under the will of Azett, he would only find his certain death one day.

"I take it as a definite answer." Aldar pushed his hands on the desk when he stood up. "Wait here, I will arrange anything necessary with Azett." With a sign of his hand, he showed Link and Jyrik to follow him. However, Ganondorf would never forget the despised gaze of Jyrik when he walked past him.

Now left alone, Ganondorf got absorbed in thoughts. If he was honest to himself, he had no faith in Aldar's words. Probably that one only amused himself on his expense since he did not get the answer for which he had come. In the end, he could recruit thousands of other people to his army with fewer obstacles, assuming that he was even the high general he claimed to be or belonged to the army at all. And even if he was, he had to convince Azett to let him free and that greedy one would never agree without a huge compensation. At the latest, there was the end of the road.

The time passed by and Ganondorf gazed into the air without leaving his seat. However, he grinned at the thought of how it would be to be outside, fighting among others against a common foe. On a battlefield without spectators where everyone contributed to victory or defeat. With people willing to lay down their own life for another to survive. It sounded like a fairy-tale because those were things he barely understood since he always had to fight on his own for his own.

"Are you ready? Or did you suddenly develop an unexplainable affinity towards this place?" Ganondorf turned abruptly around only to look up into Aldar's face, though he could not believe that he had returned. "You don't have much trust in other people's words, do you? Though that's probably not the worst attitude." Aldar pushed a piece of paper on the desk and hold it with one hand. "It's official that you're now registered on my name."

Ganondorf viewed the sheet, but only barely deciphered his name. However, he knew the seal of Azett and he saw it waxed under a scribbling that should be his signature.

Aldar must have noticed Ganondorf's hesitation when he spoke out in surprise, "Don't tell me you can't read this. It's the official language of our kingdom." Aldar sighed audibly since he probably realized that his assumption was true. "They really don't teach you anything here besides fighting, I guess. We have to catch up on this. It reflects discredit on my army if my men don't know the basics of social life."

But Ganondorf wholeheartedly ignored his remark when he stumbled in disbelief, "I belong to you now?" He turned his head to Aldar again when he added with a more sardonic voice, "Have you finally killed that greedy bastard?"

"Ganondorf, you shouldn't think that negatively. Murdering for one's own advantage has no place in the army of Hyrule." Aldar looked sinister when he added, "And before you get any strange ideas, it also entails severe punishment, which can even include losing your own life. However, to satisfy your curiosity, I gave him 500 for you. Not quite cheap, but I'm certain Her Majesty, our queen, would've agreed on this without hesitation as well."

"500?" repeated Ganondorf in apathy before his voice regained his force. "He agreed to this for only 500 rupees?"

Aldar brought out in laughter and only when he had calmed down again, he answered, amused, "You truly have to learn a lot. Truly. 500 rupees… as if Azett would even consider dealing in that small dimension." Ganondorf looked bugged at him but Aldar offered no further explanation. "But at least the price included a horse and clothing for you. If you would accompany us in those rags, everybody and his mother would think you're our prisoner. I don't think you would be keen of this."

Aldar put a pile of clothing in front of Ganondorf, before he took the certificate back. "When you're ready, we can set off. Link and Jyrik are already waiting outside."


	9. New Bonds but old Chains

**Chapter IX – New Bonds but old Chains**

His breath stopped. His heart missed a beat. It was overwhelming. Everything. As if he had entered a different world from one moment to the next without any warnings.

For the first time in his life, Ganondorf did not merely listen to stories about the outside, he witnessed this world with his very own eyes. He saw it. He heard it. He even felt it. And the impression flailed at his mind relentlessly, without mercy. No matter where he turned his head, it did not end. There was no end.

People everywhere, walking on the streets without boundaries. Allowed to go where their hearts desired. Engulfed in conversations of joy. They were cheerful. And no orders were spoken within the peaceful atmosphere. No threats either. And the wind that blew here, touching his face and whirling through his hair, it felt living. Not even a touch of rotten flesh polluted it.

Nothing, absolutely nothing out here shared a similarity with the death that lingered around him every other day for as long as he could remember. Yet one thing was true. As magnificent as these impressions were, they overstrained him. Entirely.

"It is fascinating to just observe you and your expression." Ganondorf breathed flatly when he turned his head around and looked down to Aldar. "You remind me of men who were freed after years if not decades of imprisonment. Or even torture." He sounded melancholy when he added, "But I assume your situation doesn't differ that much from those men."

Ganondorf's view wandered back to the crowd. He merely understood Aldar, but that one continued undisturbed, "Even for me it's hard to get into your mind and imagine you've never seen something ordinary like this. The daily life of Hyrule's inhabitants. Yet I'm convinced you'll get used to and as easily bored out of it as me and the others. Maybe this day will even be tomorrow." Aldar clapped him on the shoulder. "But we shouldn't let Link and Jyrik wait. They already look annoyed at us."

Aldar pointed in the direction apart from the masses where his lieutenants, together with their horses, stood. But Ganondorf did not move. Still overwhelmed, he stared mesmerized at all those people, humans, humanoids and other races who showed such a cheerful and peaceful attitude towards each other he had never seen before. It was another world. It must be. But it was a wonderful one.

Since Ganondorf did not react, Aldar grabbed his arm and pulled him along. However, he did not do it forcefully like the guards, he paid attention that he could follow him easily without stumbling.

"I hope this outlaw doesn't slow us down on our journey," grumbled Jyrik when he observed Ganondorf sullenly. "I want to be back at the castle when dinner is served and not when everybody sleeps."

With a piercing glare, Aldar silenced Jyrik before he took the reins of a horse with a muscular build and black fur. He turned around to Ganondorf again. "This is your stallion. I hope it isn't a problem for you to get on it with your remaining injuries."

Ganondorf hesitated. Not because of the wounds, he barely noticed them anymore after all the excitement, but because it was the first time he ever faced a horse. However, his pride forbade to ask for specific instructions in how to mount it. In the end, it just could not be too difficult.

The stallion whickered unpleasantly and Aldar soothed it when Ganondorf tried to get on it. But even though it proved to be more difficult than expected, at some point, he sat in the saddle. Albeit it took him some time and even more attempts.

"And you're certain, Sir, that this dork shall become a knight when he doesn't even know the most essential basics to be one?" Jyrik looked suspiciously at Ganondorf and screw up his nose. However, Aldar's face got even more bugged than the last time and Jyrik took his distance without losing another word. Ganondorf could not hide the sardonic smile when he saw Jyrik's troubled face. He knew that man at most a few hours, yet he was already obnoxious to the core.

"I have to agree, it wasn't the most elegant way I've seen a man mounting a horse. There's a lot of room for improvement," said Aldar with a doubtful voice. "Yet I won't judge on that since it was your first time. And at least you're sitting and haven't fallen down again. Now let me show you the most basics of riding."

However, once Aldar began to instruct him, Ganondorf felt a lot more comfortable in the saddle than he thought he would be. In the end, it proved to be quite easy and to his biggest surprise, it did not feel new, but very familiar like he had been often and long on horseback. Yet his memory recalled nothing.

But even though he felt safe on the horse, he refrained from using the chance to escape. Most likely Aldar was still superior and faster in terms of riding. He would soon catch up and since he must be a skilled swordsman, there was no chance he could offer him a battle without sword and armor himself.

"Without a doubt, you are very talented," acknowledged Aldar after Ganondorf smoothly absolved his first round alone and returned. "This way we make it back to the castle in less than two days. I have to admit, at first I thought it would take us much longer with you, but it seems my worries were unnecessary."

"Maybe his folk are excellent riders and their skills are resting inside his blood. At least I haven't seen anybody learning that fast." Link sat on his mare, a brown one with a white mane and tail. Jyrik was close behind. They had mounted their horses when they saw Ganondorf's success.

"Maybe. Maybe not. But it doesn't matter anyway," responded Aldar unusually aggressively. For some reasons, Aldar could not stand it when the topic about his race came up. At least, Ganondorf believed that Aldar knew more about him than he admitted. But at the moment, to experience his unknown future interested him more than pondering over his forgotten past. When the time had come, he could still seek that one out.

* * *

It was late evening when they built up the tents to camp for the night in the middle of a wide plain which Aldar had introduced as Hyrule Field, the greatest and most prosperous landscape of the kingdom. Ganondorf sat together with the three knights around a campfire but once the moon had climbed up to the height of the sky, Link and Jyrik decided to take their sleep, leaving him with the general behind.

However, Ganondorf had not spoken on the journey. The impressions of it stuck deep inside him, even until now. The landscapes he had seen, they were beautiful. Words alone could not do them justice. And when they rode, he heard it. Adorable voices of the animals, carried by the wind that blew over the countryside. The peace the field showed was just one thing: wonderful.

Yet as wonderful as it was, the more depressing his life as a gladiator seemed to be. Once his eyes caught the beauty, he realized how much he had missed in life and how small his own horizon was. For the first time he witnessed eye to eye how petty his actual knowledge about the world was.

But one question remained. Though it got buried under his impressions, it constantly nagged on him and crawled back into his consciousness. Now that he was not bond to Azett anymore, he would not fight in the arena again. But neither was he a free man. Even though his bonds changed, he was still chained to the will of Aldar.

Ganondorf turned his head towards that man, who gazed lost in thoughts at the flames. Only the cracking of the burning woods disrupted the silence. He observed him for a little while, but Aldar did not move. Therefore, he addressed him straight-forwardly, "What do you exactly expect from me?"

To his annoyance, Aldar did not react. But before he was able to ask him again, this one said, worried, "Is it me or has it become quite cold around here? If we're unlucky, we might catch a cold."

Ganondorf looked in irritation at him, feeling how his anger arose because his question was entirely ignored. Yet Aldar remained undeterred and began rummaging in a knapsack that stood by his side. After a while, he put out a convoluted sheet of paper. Once he had mustered it, a pleasant smile appeared on his lips. "I'm certain this will give our fire the input to burn brighter to warm us." Without hesitation, he threw the paper into the flames.

Ganondorf watched how they nagged on it, turning it into ashes bit by bit. But what truly astonished him was when he saw how wax melted into a shapeless clump, never meant to be recognized again.

"That was…," stuttered Ganondorf, unable to grasp the words and in the end, only ended up with an open mouth. There was no mistaken that this sheet of paper was the one and only evidence that had documented his bond to the man beside him by law.

"Oh, yes, you're right. It was this one important document. By the three Goddesses, how could a man of my degree commit such a mistake? I've just let half a million rupees perish into the flames. I'm afraid I'm getting old," sighed Aldar with a bitter voice but it soon turned into a cheerful laughter. "But in the end, it wasn't my money, therefore it isn't such a tragedy. Just don't tell anybody. Especially no word to the townspeople."

"Half a million?" stumbled Ganondorf, still absorbed in bafflement.

"You still haven't figured it out?" Aldar raised an eyebrow, looking wondering at Ganondorf before he smiled. "Your lacking knowledge is truly amusing. But yes, I've given up 500,000 rupees for you. Which was, by Azett's standards, quite a decent deal. Though he only did because he was not sure if you're still profitable for him after you suffered such a defeat. Otherwise only the Goddesses know what he would have demanded."

Ghastly Ganondorf looked at Aldar. Either this one had snapped in the last past minutes or he was kidding. Though in the last case, his jokes tended to be expensive. Very expensive.

"I see, I should quit joking. Otherwise I'm afraid you get the idea of me being a madman." All of a sudden, Aldar returned to his serious behavior. "See, Ganondorf. What I've done was a symbolic act. The flames have not only eaten a useless scrap of paper, but destroyed the fictive chains that bound you." Ganondorf met Aldar's eyes but they told him he was deadly serious. "You are now what you ever wished to be. A free man. Your will is subdued to that of another no more. From now on, it is up to you to forge your life. No one will force you to do anything your heart doesn't desire and your mind denies."

The minutes passed by in which none of the two said even a single word. Ganondorf was still in disbelief what happened right now. Only a few weeks ago he dreamt about winning the tournament to get free, yet he lost miserably without even remembering it. Shortly afterwards, he lost a person dear to him, Karlos, and it seemed his life was doomed only to be ordered to meet his visitors of whom one became his new master. He was meant to join the army but Aldar burnt the property paper to let him free without any restrictions. Without even being asked.

After he had sorted some of his thoughts, he turned again towards Aldar and asked doubtfully, "You wanted me to become part of your men. Why did you change your mind?"

Aldar did not take his eyes off the fire when he responded, "I haven't changed my mind. This is still my favor to ask you."

Once Ganondorf noticed that Aldar had no intentions in explaining himself further, he confronted him skeptically, "But you are aware that you can't force me to fight for you?"

Aldar let some time slip in which he leaned forwards, bracing his upper body with the elbows on his knees before he responded seriously, "Gladiators and knights have much in common. Both are warriors who risk their life on the battlefield. Who mastered a specific part of combat. But do you know what sets them apart?" Aldar turned his head to him, looking directly into his eyes. "Be honest, Ganondorf. What would you have done if Azett would have been attacked by an enemy and you were the only one who could save him from his certain death?"

Ganondorf grinned. Although he had no clue what Aldar was up to, he answered bluntly, "I would have helped this one to bring Azett's deserved fate faster to him." He despised this man and all the ones surrounding him. Seeing him dead, seeing his men dead, it would be one of the greatest pleasures.

A satisfied smile appeared when Aldar responded, "You certainly don't mince your words, but I appreciate it that you don't make a secret out of your aversions. But this was exactly the difference I meant. Loyalty. You, as a gladiator, only fulfill the biddings of your master because you have to. What you do is not what you believe in. Given the chance, you would backstab your master immediately without asking twice."

Aldar leaned backwards and looked into the night sky when he continued thoughtfully, "However, I can't afford a fragile bond like this in my army. Men who become knights of Hyrule put their heart into it, even their soul. If they wade into a battle or even into war, they fight with everything they have for their fatherland. They're convinced that what they do is what they have to do by any means necessary."

Aldar looked again at Ganondorf, but he remained quiet. He wanted to listen. "When I'm outside on the battlefields, I need men who stand by my side even until death. I devoted my life to this kingdom and to my queen. To protect both is my duty and I do not carry any doubts in my heart to lay down my life to fulfill it if this becomes necessary one day." He smiled, but it was a cold one. "That said, if only some paper tells you are my servant and I'm you're master, I would encounter the same fate you would bring to Azett if I'm on the edge of death."

Both looked again at the campfire. However, Ganondorf could only agree on Aldar's words. If he turned out to be a second Azett and the chance of slaying him came at hand, he would not have hesitated a single second to exploit his weak spot.

"See, Ganondorf." Aldar sounded calm albeit he did not look at him. "I would appreciate it if you decide to become a knight. You have much potential, I've witnessed it with my very own eyes and your powers and skills surpass that of many, even at such a young age. As for the other common abilities, we will find ways to improve on those ones." Aldar turned around to him and his gaze was piercing when he continued in a serious manner, "Yet you should only decide to come with us if you truly desire it. I have no place for men whose hearts are fragile."

While Aldar stood up, he yawned before he added, "I go to sleep now. You can choose if you stay until tomorrow or if you get on your horse and take the way that seems fitting to you. This is your decision. And yours alone." Without waiting for an answer, Aldar left him.

Ganondorf stayed at the campfire. The wood crackled when the flames rose higher before they fell again. Lost in thought, he watched their struggle of rise and fall. However, it was harder to make a decision on his own than he thought it would be, as the free man he was now.

For the first time in his life there was not a good or a bad choice. It was not about if he wanted to follow his nature and furthermore act reluctant towards the guards and suffer the punishment or ignore his pride and give in to their demands. This time, there were no cruel consequences, regardless of which path he would choose. And that made it hard to decide. Very hard.

* * *

**Author's Note**

And with this chapter, Ganondorf's life as a gladiator has officially come to an end. However, it doesn't mean his journey and especially his struggles have ended as well, as he can't easily let go of his life and methods as an arena fighter. And then there is also his rather arrogant and short-tempered personality that not everyone will be pleased about, which all lead to new conflicts . And of course his biggest secret remains still hidden: His forgotten past.

But well, that will be the content of the new act alias the coming chapters. However, now is the perfect opportunity for a longer comment. :D

First of all, thanks to all the ones who read and support this story. It means a lot to me. Really, especially since I still think about this as an rather uncommon story. :)  
I truly appreciate all the feedback I can get and I'm always happy to see the reactions from readers, so always feel free to give it to me. :)

Another big thanks go to my beta, Debochira, who still sticks to me and helps me a lot to get the story to the version you can read. Without his help, there would be a lot of weird sentences and word uses, therefore I'm very grateful for the time and effort he takes into it.

About the story itself and my motivation behind it: Originally, it was only a small idea how it would be if Ganondorf wouldn't be a powerful king but rather stuck into the opposite position. A prisoner or slave. Shortly afterwards, the idea of him being a gladiator popped up in my head and never let go of me until I took the premise to my NaNoWriMo project 2013. Since writing 1667 or more words a day for 30 days is quite sapping for a slow writer like me, I only started after a longer break to work on the raw manuscript again, which means entirely rewriting and revisiting. And the result, well, it's what you see and hopefully enjoy here. :)


	10. The Kingdom of Hyrule

**Act II – The Life of a Knight**

* * *

**Chapter X – The Kingdom of Hyrule**

The sun shined bright from the sky when Ganondorf saw the tremendous walls and shortly afterwards rode into Hyrule Castle Town, the capital of the kingdom. The townsfolk cheered happily when they saw that their general had returned, but their faces became suspicious when their view caught the foreigner. Him. Yet he could care less about them as he had other things in mind.

Ganondorf had spent at least another hour staring at the fire last night before he came to the conclusion that for now it made the most sense to follow Aldar. He witnessed for himself that despite all the tales and stories told, he knew next to nothing about the world. Furthermore, he had no clue where he should head to because besides fighting, how to behave as a gladiator and other minor tasks the guards demanded from him, he possessed practically no abilities that he needed for the life in freedom.

But even more important, he always dreamt to become a free warrior who would fight on the battlefield for a true reason. Albeit he was uncertain what this reason might be exactly, it certainly was not for the entertainment of others. Joining the army of Hyrule appealed to him like it would bring him one step further to this goal. And if not, he would just leave them again. He did not care much about loyalty though he kept that a secret, especially from Aldar.

Ganondorf followed him and the other two on the path through the town, which directly led to the castle. The keepers opened the massive gate that scratched over the ground, accompanied by a loud and rusty sound. Curiously Ganondorf looked around when he rode inside. A lot of people crowded the courtyard, some of them armored from feet to head, some in aristocratic dresses and others in common clothing.

But the most impressive view was the tremendous palace in front of him. Walls decorated with ornaments, windows in various forms, towers which aimed for the sky and knights that protected the royal castle, probably even with their lives. Yet the atmosphere was dominated by enjoyment and peace, the exact opposite of what he was used to back at the arena. It appealed much to his liking and if it stayed like this, he could very well imagine to stay as well.

Once they had reached the middle of the yard, Aldar stopped and dismounted from his stallion. His two lieutenants and Ganondorf followed his example and shortly afterwards, soldiers came. These greeted them before they took the reins of the horses and brought them to the stable nearby.

Aldar informed the three to wait when he headed towards the palace gate. Ganondorf looked after him but soon lost his focus when he saw the person he went to. Formally Aldar greeted her by bowing down though the two men behind her, clad in a magnificent armor and their weapons at hand, did not leave her side.

They shared words with each other but Ganondorf did not understand them since they stood out of earshot. However, even if they were within, he would have not heard them either. His attention was fixated on the woman. She was young, maybe around his age, and she wore her blond hair long and loose, only her pointy ears sticking out from them. Yet, she carried around this presence of grace and elegance, maybe even royalty.

Ganondorf did not let his eyes go off from this woman. She left such a deep impression, a fascination which he had never experienced before. Neither could he explain where the fuzzy feeling came from or what it was exactly. In the end, no words could describe it, but it was not awkward or even painful. Quite the opposite, he felt warm and comfortable inside.

Once their conversation was over, she headed back into the castle together with her company. Ganondorf still stared after her and neither noticed his surroundings, nor the yelling, but he was soon brought back to his senses by a short twirling pain on his cheek.

"I warn you. I know this absent gaze very well and you should better forget about this immediately. It will only bring pain and misery. To you!" Ganondorf turned his head down and looked into the face of the general whose finger pointed dangerously at him. Aldar's body was tensed and his twitches of the face looked like he had to restrain himself from drawing his sword and piercing it through his body.

Ganondorf needed a short time to realize what had happened, but he entirely ignored Aldar's menacing appearance when he responded bugged, "What's your problem now?"

"Watch your mouth, you…" Jyrik stepped towards Ganondorf but Aldar already cut him off with a wink of his hand. Yet he never let his piercing glare off of Ganondorf.

"Listen. I only warn you once. She is far out of your league. Now and forever. And I swear to you: If there is anybody who even thinks about harming her in any way, I don't ask twice before I slice through his throat. He will not even have a single second to regret his idiocy." Aldar's voice became more sinister when he added, "And I certainly don't care who or what he is. And you, Ganondorf, will be no exception if you force me to slaughter you."

Ganondorf remained quiet and only released a grumble which could be interpreted as anything. Even though he was confident about his combat skills and never would be afraid of facing and fighting an enemy, he had to admit that Aldar appeared intimidating in this mood. In regard to him being in charge of the whole army, he certainly would be a very unpleasant encounter if it would come to a battle until death.

However, albeit he refrained from picking a quarrel with Aldar by now, he still had not given up on that woman. At least not as long as he did not know what the feeling was about.

Aldar probably felt the reluctance of Ganondorf when he intimidatingly said, "Just because you're a free man doesn't mean you can do anything you want. Your freedom ends where you touch the laws of others. Let me assure you, we had one Great War because of another folk who did not understand this. And their price for this disrespect was their absolute annihilation. I hope for your own health that you do not have any intentions to follow their path because that one led them straight to hell."

Ganondorf did not want to give him an answer on this because the annoying lecturing reminded him of Karlos. And he never stopped when he talked back, quite the opposite. Therefore he only nodded to avoid another one, though he was certain that if this became a habit of Aldar, he would leave the army sooner than he had joined it.

"If this is clear now, see me in my office afterwards. I have to do some business before I can set up the rest for your membership," ordered Aldar in a calmer mood before he turned around and left.

"Congratulations. You were able to cross our High General on your first day. That's quite an achievement, though not one you should be proud of," said Jyrik in a false-friendly voice though it soon changed into a derogative manner. "I don't give you a month before you quit. You might be powerful but that's all you have. Just as I said before, you aren't worthy to become a knight."

Ganondorf did not even look down at Jyrik when he responded in an unconcerned attitude, "You should keep your mouth shut in my presence. You pollute my ears and I don't like this. Would be quite another incident if I stomp you into the ground on my first day. Which will happen if you continue bothering me, squirt."

"Are you trying to threatening me, you savage?" responded Jyrik aggressively, but Ganondorf did not degrade himself again to speak with that man and already had walked away.

Albeit he heard Link sighing. "You two don't give much to each other. Hopefully our High General is wise enough to not assign you to the same company."

Ganondorf grinned with satisfaction on his way to the castle's entrance because this little nuisance could do nothing against his behavior. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Because he was not his master. He bathed in the pleasure that freedom had to offer him. Finally he would not be forced to endure every obnoxious attitude or suffer the consequences if he just could not hold himself back any longer.

Ganondorf asked his way to Aldar's office but even though they replied to him politely, every single one of them eyed him suspiciously. But once it got too annoying for him and he began to ask them about it, they claimed it was nothing or just left quietly.

Once Aldar had returned and calmed down to his old reversed manner, he instructed him about the army and the expectations of him that Aldar had not told him before on their ride to the castle. Ganondorf listened only halfheartedly, yet he at least tried to look attentive. In the end, he never had a great interest in everything that had to do with duties and rules.

He left the office after Aldar had assigned him to Link's division because he trusted him to manage his haughty attitude. Ganondorf would see if he truly got along with this one, but at least he had shown to be more open minded and respectful even towards him compared to Jyrik.

"Seems like we've met sooner again than I thought." Link walked together with him across one of the many castle's corridors, but Ganondorf only mumbled in response. He was still too impressed by his surroundings because it was the entire opposite of what he was used to back at the arena. Chandeliers or windows lighted the gangways very well, some of them had even carpets or portraits and statues that decorated them. And even though some people rushed the paths along, the overall appearance of them was respectful and friendly.

"Fine, I got it. You don't appreciate talking much," noticed Link though his voice remained calm. "But nonetheless, I don't call it a wise decision to immediately integrate you into my group and training in regard to your injuries. They might have been treated and healed up quite well, but they were severe and I don't want to risk anything if I don't have to."

"No need to care about these ones," responded Ganondorf unconcerned. Previously he preferred to be allowed to stay longer at the hospital ward and especially be without any tasks, but now he was far too curious about the things that awaited him. "I'm used to them. I can't even remember one fight I've fought without those. Don't even think they hold me back because they never did."

"Yes, you're tough as nails. I have no doubts about it." Link looked up to him and his view told that he was determined about what he would say next. "But I furthermore already noticed that you're boastful. You don't have to prove anybody anything here, you're already part of the army. Aldar had approved you without any trial or training beforehand and his word in regard to the army is absolute. Therefore there is no need to strain yourself if you're still injured. A wise man knows that even though injuries might push him to his limits, his limits are greater if he is at full health."

Ganondorf did not answer as he was surprised about his talking. He had not expected that Link would be able to get his point across without becoming demanding or rough at him. Probably there was more within him than his comparatively slender appearance indicated.

"We will start in one week, but we can already use that one to improve your knowledge. A knight who can't read is a bit…" Link stopped and looked as if he tried to find the right words to not insult him. "It's odd but nothing that can't be changed. Albeit what you lack there you surpass others in terms of strength and fighting skills. I'm certain we can make an honorable warrior out of you when we teach you suitable techniques and channel your powers the right way." To his surprise, Link smiled friendly at him when he concluded, "Is this a proposal you can agree to?"

"It's worth a try at least. I'll see how much a knight can teach a gladiator or if you better cut off a slice of me." A smug smile appeared on Ganondorf's face. He could not imagine how this small man should be able to teach him anything when it came down to swordsmanship or fighting in general.

"You're very cocksure of yourself, aren't you? However, let me tell you that power alone isn't the key here. The battles you encounter in our ranks differ from the ones you're used to. Don't let yourself get fooled," said Link in a serious manner.

However, it did not impress Ganondorf when he answered, undeterred, "You know, the ones who talked big like that were also the ones who had fallen first. Monsters and other opponents aren't interested in those corny phrases; they don't even ask what knowledge is inside you when they impale you with their claws or swords. The only language they understand is that of the strongest."

The reaction of Link towards these words was a grin. "Well, I'm certain things will get interesting with you sticking around. But first of all, you'll see a doctor now."

* * *

In the first days, Ganondorf got often lost in the castle's numerous corridors even though Link had showed him most of it. But enough people roamed around whom he could ask and albeit they still seemed to be suspicious and reversed around his foreign presence, they began to familiarize themselves with him.

Furthermore, he got assigned his own room. It was not big, but certainly enough for him. At least at this moment. It was not a musty and dark cell he had lived in for more than a decade. Quite the opposite, the window enlightened it very well, it possessed a bed that fit his size and was not merely a pile of worn out tissues. It also had shelves to store his belongings. At least, once he would have some.

To his surprise, Aldar personally cared for this even though this privilege was usually reserved for the higher members of the army. But Ganondorf did not complain since he had no home he could go to and he preferred it over the barracks where the soldiers on duty were housed.

All in all, the life here was vastly more comfortable compared to his old one. The food tasted delicious and was more varied, he was not restrained to specific areas and except for parts that belonged to royalty only, he could go to where he wished. He could even leave the castle without being afraid to get slaughtered.

One day, when Ganondorf returned from lessons in which he drove his teachers more than once to desperation due to his arrogant behavior, he walked along a corridor whose windows pointed towards the courtyard. As he did every time, he looked down on the events, on people who ran around, who involved themselves in conversation or who observed their surroundings.

However, on this particular day he saw Aldar there on the back of his stallion with a few of his men waiting behind him. Ganondorf stopped and braced his hands against the windowsill to observe the on-goings further.

This was one of the reasons why he preferred Aldar far above Azett. He did not only sit in his office all day long and watched passively how others struggled for their life to give him money; he involved himself in these fights and stood side by side with his men. Even though Aldar could be obnoxious, he was at least able to respect him as a warrior and a man. Something he never could have said about Azett. Not then, not now.

But soon Ganondorf's view caught the woman who spoke to Aldar. At the same moment, he felt a sting in his chest that quickly spread over his body before it vanished. It was the woman he had seen on his first day and yet again, he felt the prickling but warm feeling whose meaning he still did not understand.

He rushed through the corridors, down the staircase and directly to one of the doors which led to the courtyard. He had to meet her and finally find out what this weird feeling was about. Hopefully Aldar would be set off since then for he made clear that he did not want him to linger around this woman for whatever reason.

Once he had arrived, not only Aldar was gone but the woman as well. The only feeling left was disappointment. Surely, he had no clue what was going on or what influence this woman had on him. But she had a great one. That much was for certain.


	11. The gallant Gladiator

**Chapter XI – The gallant Gladiator**

The week passed by sooner than Ganondorf expected. It was still early morning when he left his room and searched his way to the training hall which Link had shown him before. Once Ganondorf entered the anteroom, he was already greeted by Link. "Good morning. Seems like you can finally find your way across the castle. It's a huge difference compared to the arena, isn't it?" Ganondorf responded with a grumble and even though Link kept his straight face, he sighed. "But you're still not a big talker."

"I can't remember someone saying I'm here for talking. It's a waste of time I can use for more meaningful tasks," answered Ganondorf bluntly. Even though he liked Link to some degree, it did not mean he intended to make friends. He never had before and albeit this was not the arena where it was possible he had to fight somebody he could have gotten close to, he saw no meaning in changing it.

"We must do something against your reticence. You're not a loner anymore, Ganondorf. In the army, fellowship is important, maybe even more important than swordsmanship." Ganondorf looked in disbelief at Link. "Because on our battlefields, you only survive as a team."

"Yeah, fine," responded Ganondorf casually when he let his view wander across the room. It had a table with chairs for about twenty people in the middle, probably meant for instructions. Rackets and shelves with weaponry and armor of different types stood on the stony walls. However, his eyes caught an armor in his size.

"Is this mine?" Ganondorf pointed at the only armor that could fit him.

"I would appreciate it if you take my words seriously and don't switch topics." Link's voice became forceful.

But Ganondorf stayed unconcerned and only answered, "I take it as a 'yes'," when he moved towards the armor.

"Ganondorf. Just because unlike the guards back at the arena I don't smack you down or give others the command to do so when you choose to ignore my orders or my person, doesn't mean I let it pass." Ganondorf turned around. Although still calm, Link sounded unusually harsh and resolute. "If you ever intend to become more than just a substitute who spends all day long in the castle, you have to learn how to respect authority. And especially how to follow their orders. I'm certain that High General Aldar has told you that loyalty is one if not the most important aspects of a knight, hasn't he?"

Wordless, Ganondorf stared at Link but like he himself, this one had no intentions in backing down first. He was determined and stood his ground regardless of whom he faced, that much was for certain. In the end, Ganondorf turned his head away after a while because it was probably not the best idea to act rebellious right at the start, yet he still loathed it to defer himself to the inferior position. But at least he should try to do it as long as he had not achieved what he wanted.

"Then, Mr. Lieutenant Link, tell me your orders," said Ganondorf though his dismissive manner had not vanished when he added provocatively, "We'll see if I'll follow them."

"Cut out the last sentence and we have a solid base. Now, get your armor and sword and follow me into the hall. There I will introduce you to your comrades." Link pointed at the pile of metal Ganondorf had intended to go to before. "You should remember them. By their true name, of course. Not some self-made up ones like squirt."

Ganondorf followed Link to the training ground. It was large and offered a good place to hone one's fighting skills and furthermore had enough room to improve the body condition as well. At the moment he entered, about twenty men trained in the hall, mostly with dummy weapons against each other or against wooden puppets, albeit a few used solid steel. In the back area some soldiers shot arrows at targets, others again trained their stamina. But even though it reminded him of his old days in the arena, he felt much more comfortable inside these walls.

"All of you, get together, please!" shouted Link through the hall. The clashing of swords silenced and the heads of the men turned around to their superior. "I have to introduce you a new member who will be a part of our division as of today."

The men gathered around Link and Ganondorf. Curiously they observed him and their expression ranging from fascination to disgust. He could very well imagine why they reacted this way. They all shared a similar appearance, indicating they must all belong to the same or a closely related race. However, he did not look at all like them since they were all smaller in size and less big and not even one had red hair. Though the most prominent feature were their ears. Long and pointy.

"This is Ganondorf, a former gladiator that is here on High General Aldar's personal behalf. Because of this, he already possesses good swordsmanship. I can only encourage all of you to not get lazy around him just because he's new to the army," introduced Link him formally to his men. "That said, I want him to be treated and respected like any other, regardless of his background or any other differences." He looked into the round. "Is there anything left to say?"

The men shook their heads except for one who brought up what probably all the others thought as well but did not want to speak about. Furthermore, Ganondorf assumed he was the one with the most disgusted face and unfortunately, his hair was too short to cover it. "He isn't a Hylian or any of our relatives, is he? Why would High General Aldar include someone who isn't of our blood? And especially one who looks like an outlaw?"

Before Link had a chance to react, Ganondorf already answered in a disdainful voice, "I've only been here since a few minutes and you're already get on my nerves. And to answer your question: No, I'm not a Hylian or anything like that, but when I see you, I'm glad I don't belong or are even related to you in any way."

The face of the man darkened. "That's a coincidence because I can agree that your arrogance is already obnoxious after such a small amount of time. If you want, you can feel the edge of my blade," responded the man menacingly and his hand slid down to the rift of his sword.

Ganondorf only grinned. "Then show me what you've got. I've put other calibers than you to silence." The others stepped aside when they noticed the dangerous glare in both men's eyes.

"Stop this immediately!" shouted Link rigorously when he stepped between both of them. "Ganondorf, we had that talk before and I don't like to repeat myself." Link stared energetically at him before he turned his head around to the other man. "And you, Esbern, I've expected more from you. Didn't I teach you to calm your temper and don't let yourself getting enraged by words alone? It lowers your defense, making it easy for your enemy to exploit it, resulting in injuries or even death."

Esbern lowered his voice and put the sword back before he added ruefully, "My apology, lieutenant. I let my feelings overcome my mind. But it's rare that we have any foreigner here." He glared piercingly towards Ganondorf.

"But to which tribe does he belong then?" asked another curiously after the mood had calmed down again.

"I don't know, neither does he. He suffers from amnesia," answered Link immediately in his usual voice. He certainly did not want that Ganondorf answered again in his arrogant fashion. "But this is only related to his past, not to his abilities in combat. Therefore, as I said, don't get lazy around him. Now, is there anything else?" He looked over his men who shook their heads again. "Then go back to your training schedule."

They headed again to their places and continued their training while Ganondorf stayed by Link's side. "What was this about?" asked Link bugged when he looked up to him. The annoyance was visible in his eyes.

But Ganondorf remained unimpressed because he felt nothing wrong in his reaction. "Your men have a lot of prejudices. Quite obnoxious. Maybe you should teach them how to act properly and not me."

Link grumbled irritated and put his view off of Ganondorf, but soon returned back to his sober behavior. "I'm afraid we both have a really long road ahead of us." He faced Ganondorf again and got more serious when he continued, "Let me tell you again. No matter how strong you might be, with this behavior you won't get very far here. Even though it probably would be better, I don't want to punish you directly on your first day. But if you act like this again, you will feel the consequences. Is this clear to you?"

"Yeah, all right. Now, will something happen here or do we talk all day long?" answered Ganondorf again in an indifferent manner. In some way he was used to menacing and also punishment, yet it never changed his mind.

Link breathed out loud but only answered, "You're really scratching the limits of my patience, Ganondorf. But you'll train with me because I'm not sure if my men can handle you. And I'm not talking solely about your swordsmanship."

* * *

The days which Ganondorf spent in lessons of socializing and training with Link in combat flew by very fast and soon a whole month had passed. It was the complete opposite of the days as a gladiator as those felt like they would never end. Back then, there was almost no diversion, always the same environment and similar tasks and duties. And the constant threat of death.

Furthermore, the men of the division became familiarized with him. Yet his foreign appearance still remained a topic of conversation which sometimes ended in a fight, especially with Esbern. But even though Link cautioned and punished him when he crossed the borders too far again, his overall rebellious and naughty nature was nothing he could get out of Ganondorf either.

However, despite all his differences, they accepted and respected him for his skills and his power for he excelled many if not all of them in these terms. Though he truly enjoyed this as he was never treated this way ever before and only had to function, one day after another. Otherwise, if he denied, he would have been murdered without further questions.

As for Link, even though Ganondorf did not believe it at first, he found a true liking on him. Albeit they clashed more than once into each other with their different views of being a knight and their fighting style, Link showed respect towards him even though he was the superior. Additionally, Ganondorf was allowed to correct or disagree with him without suffering from heavy consequences like back in his old life as long as he did not go overboard and acted overly disobedient.

In the end, it was because Link saw and treated him as human with his own personality and not a slave or even a tool. This was probably a reason that Ganondorf, even though he still loathed it, was a little more willing to subordinate himself to Link's orders without too much reluctance.

It was yet another day on which Ganondorf's sword crossed the blade of Link's when their training season came earlier to an end than normal. "You're again visiting the queen?" Ganondorf raised an eyebrow in disbelief. Link often mentioned he was going to see her, even in a way as if they knew each other very well. "I thought this woman is such an important and busy person with few time, yet she spends it on meeting the same guy again and again. What's that between you two?"

Link sheathed his sword before he responded, "That's a long story. I doubt you have the patience to listen to the whole one. But to keep it short and simple to not bore you out, we're friends since childhood when she was still a princess and we spent many hours together back then. To the chagrin of others, who loathed that a mere forest boy even dared to look at royalty and even worse, spoke to her. But since her father, the deceased king, allowed it and Aldar stood on my side as well, they couldn't prevent it." A smile appeared on his lips. "That was my luck."

Ganondorf sneered. "That's a useful friend. Enviable. She could make you king one day, then you wouldn't have to follow anybody's orders and command them instead."

Link's usually gentle expressions darkened. "You shouldn't narrow down friendship to usefulness. It's rude at its best, but I rather call it despicable to its core."

"If you think so," responded Ganondorf, uninterested and turned around to continue training with the dummy before him. "Do whatever you want. Though it's wasted time if you don't want to become king. And don't complain if you can't keep pace with me when you always leave early because of sentiments like that."

He heard a deep sigh before Link said in a desperate mood, "Sometimes I wonder if you're truly that confident of yourself or only pretend to be." Ganondorf did not answer him when he slashed his sword into the puppet. "And I furthermore wonder if it is a wise choice of Her Majesty to instruct me to ask you if you want to come with me today."

Ganondorf stopped in his movement and faced Link again when he said menacingly, "Are you mocking me? I tell you, I don't like it if jokes are made at my expense."

Link remained unimpressed and answered in his relaxed manner, "I can assure you that I don't. But as I said, I'm not sure if it was a good idea of her. Especially since you call it 'wasted time'. But if you choose to come nonetheless, you have to watch your words and behavior. If you can't, either be quiet and stay in the back or even better, don't come in the first place. Don't forget that unlike me she's royalty and you need to treat her as such. No exceptions. Not even one. Is that clear to you?"

His intonation showed that he was absolutely serious about what he said. However, the words did not impress Ganondorf but he was all along curious what person the queen might be. Therefore, without much hesitation, he agreed to come with him.

Ganondorf followed him through the corridors and Link used the time to remind him how to behave in front of the queen. Yet Ganondorf only listened with one ear. He was more interested in his surroundings as he saw a part of the castle he had never visited before. It was better guarded then the rest, but the soldiers immediately parted when they saw Link because he was a respected member of the army and a well-known friend of the queen as he got to know.

They reached an elaborate ornamented door at the end of a corridor. Link stopped and turned around one last time. "Ganondorf, from now on, mind your manners. It will reflect a bad light on me and my men if you behave the way you do normally."

Ganondorf nodded when he watched how the soldiers in front the door stepped apart and let him and Link enter. Yet he did not notice much of the chamber when he saw the woman sitting at the window, with her back towards them. But from one moment to another, he got a very bad feeling about it when he looked at her long blonde hair.

She stood up, turned around and even though her face remained serious, her voice was smooth. "Link. I am delighted to see your presence and the one I have asked you about."

Link stepped towards her, greeting friendly in return but Ganondorf stood rooted to the spot without moving or even saying a single word. His mood worsened from one second to the next after he had seen her. It was a rare time he felt that low but Aldar's words echoed remorselessly through his head, "She's far out of your league." And now he knew why he said that about this one woman. Because she was royalty. And not only some royalty, she was the sovereign of the kingdom. The Queen of Hyrule.


End file.
